A Rare Sense of Humor
by JokerzCard
Summary: In which the Trickster (Gabriel) takes it upon himself to teach Sam Winchester a lesson. So naturally, he shrinks him down to 6 inches and sends both brothers on a confusing quest throughout New York City and beyond! (A size!fic)
1. Chapter 1

The alarm went off at 8:00 am, as decided. They wanted to check out of this dump and her back on the road. They'd just helped an old contact finish off a nasty poltergeist in lower Manhattan, but Dean had already set his sights on a potential case a few hundred miles south. Just keep busy, the motto he Seemed to live by these days. For once Sam had just agreed without question.

While he had intended to let his little brother sleep in a few extra minutes, Dean went rigid when he turned to face the other bed. It was empty.

His eyes darted to the bathroom, but it too was vacant. Bolting out of bed, he pulled the curtains back. Maybe he took the car to go grab some coffee... No, the impala was still there.

"Sam?"

Sam groaned, the sound of his name drawing him out of his dreams. He tried desperately to ignore Dean... to close his eyes and fall back asleep, but the overwhelming sensation that something was not right seemed to force his consciousness upon him. Sam couldn't understand why the air seemed to be so heavy. It engulfed him like a hot and humid blanket...  
'Blanket...' thought Sam, as he realized he must have just pulled the covers over his head last night. Reaching up, his hands probed for the lip pf the cover, only to find more blanket.  
"Huh?"  
The strangeness seemed to instantly wake him. He fumbled beneath the oddly heavy blanket as he frantically searched for a way out. The air seemed to get bubble with a moist heat as he desperately tried to escape the seemingly endless sea of blanket.

Standing there in his pajama pants, Dean felt a cold fear seep into his bloodstream. There was a tightness in his chest that made breathing shallow. Still, there was a chance he was just being Sam. Dean forced himself to keep a level head. Maybe the kid just went on one of his stupid runs. Or actually chatted up a girl for what was probably the fourth time in his life.

He raised his head sharply back towards the bed. If he hadn't been so quiet, it would have been easily missed. Dean narrowed his eyes, padding a few cautiosu steps closer. "...the hell?" He muttered, then lunged for the handgun under his pillow. He knew something had been fishy about this. Had a gut feeling from the get-go. Wearing an intense scowl, he grabbed the top of the bedding and yanked it aside. The moment his hand was free, it was back on his gun, which was already cocked and pointed at-  
"What." Dean's face drained of any remaining color, his voice no better than a hoarse croak.

Blinding light and cold air attacked his senses as the blanket seeming dissipated from over top of him. As the world slowly came into focus, Sam heard a strangely lot, yet unmistakable voice.  
All of the sudden the world came into focus, only to disorient Sam even more. Everything seemed out of proportion and distorted at strange angles.  
"The fuck?" finished Sam, as he looked towards the source of the voice. His eyes grew wide as he stared up at the tremendous sight before him. A behemoth wall of flannel shot up at the edge of the bed, and farther up, wide green eyes staring down at him in disbelief.  
Sam felt as if he stomach was filled with butterflies, no, more like fighter jets, flying erratically around his gut.  
He could feel the electric grip of adrenaline as it seized his wrists and instinct took over. Sam scrambled backwards, gaining as much distance between him and... and ... and Dean?

Dean had seen a crapload of weird in his lifetime. Enough to drive most people clinically insane, yet he pulled through. But seeing a living, breathing doll version of his baby brother was a whole new level of freaky.

And here he was, scaring the daylights out of him. Dean lowered the gun immediately. He clicked the safety back on without looking as he set it on the shared nightstand.

"Talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed.." he muttered the bad joke under his breath, hoping to at least annoy Sam into relaxing. "Sam. Hey, just..take it easy..." Dean stammered reassurance laced with warning. He was going to crawl right off the edge of the bed at this rate. Taking precautionary measures, he sat on the side of the bed, putting Sam back within arm's reach.

Dean voice seemed so out of place coming out of the titanic figure looming over him. As Dean moved closer, Sam instinctively flinched and moved backs, his eyes flickering back and forth between the edge of the bed and the mammoth Dean sitting in front of him. Deans attempt and comforting Sam only makes the fear inside of him boil and fester, twisting and churning like spoiled milk in his stomach.

He feels himself shaking, and worse yet, his breath come in short bursts. Everything he lays his eyes on adds to the sickening feeling that grows upon him. Sounds slips from his mouth, not words, but short stutters. While his heart beats erratically, threatening to pound its way out of his rib cage, Sam's mind tries furiously to string together whats happening, and as the realization dawns on him, it feels as if all his weight drops downwards.

Taking in a deep breath, Sam swallows at stares up at the statuesque figure planted on the bed.

"D-d-d-d" Sam clears his throat, "Dean?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah it's just me, Sammy."

A deep frown had etched itself on Dean's face, his bewildered gaze unmoving. Sam was a brave kid, and he was literally trembling right now. It made his heart cringe a bit to know that HE was the one scaring him so bad. But, for Dean, the scariest part of the whole thing was that he didn't know what to do. He had absolutely no idea how to fix this.

They stared each other down. In another situation, this would have been hilarious. But right now, the chances of Sam just popping back to normal weren't hopeful- and as they were frequently reminded, their luck had never been good to begin with.

"Stop freaking out, I'm not going to eat you." Dean muttered after a minute. Didn't he know him at all? "I'm going to take a shot in the dark here and say you have no idea how this happened?" He gestured to Sam's tiny frame a couple feet away.

Shaking his head, Sam could feel the redness creeping up to his cheeks. He was scared. He knew that.. but so did Dean, and for a moment, his embarrassment overwhelmed his fear.

What was he thinking? This was DEAN! This was the man who went to Hell and back for him, and he was sitting here trembling in his shadow. This was his friend, his partner... this was his big, scratch that, fucking enormous, brother, and he was practically pissing himself in his presence.

The embarrassment, confusion, and fear all bubbled inside of him, building up in his chest like a balloon inflating. All the emotion slurred together in a stagnant concoction, bringing upon a terrifying realization:

Sam Winchester had shrunk.

"What." his voice crawled from his lips quietly, almost unannounced to himself

"The." It raised in volume, and in octave.

"FUCK!" The final word shot out from his mouth like gunfire, and even Dean seemed surprised at his outburst.

Sam stormed around on the bed, stomping his once long legs on the strange and uneasy surface if the bed,and trudged in Deans direction,

"As if... As IF my life was bad enough already! As IF I needed any more problems! Now.. now... THIS?!" He gestured to him self, then threw his arms wide open as he stared at Dean,

"This is great. Just FUCKING GREAT!"

Turning his back to Dean he stormed off towards the pillow and let himself fall down on it face first.

"I am DONE."

Dean, who had leaned down to hear him better, straightened back abruptly upon the stringent exclamation. His eyebrows shot up and stayed there as Sam and his miniature fit of rage marched right by him. As much as he tried to, he couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was something instantly adorable about a teeny little Sam puffing and huffing like this. Dean buried a silent snicker into the back of his hand before sobering up again. Tilting his head to the side, Dean reached out to ruffle Sam's hair gently. His jaw dropped a little when he saw that his hand alone could very nearly cover Sam head to toe.

"Holy shit... Uhm," he cleared his throat and drew his hand back to himself when he felt the little shoulders stiffen beneath his finger. "We can already rule out demons, as I'm not seeing any sulfur around here. Poltergeists... almost everything in the book, actually." He trailed off in silent thought for a moment. "What about witches?" He seemed to latch onto their only possibility, ready to apply himself. "Yeah... That could work." He mumbled to himself. Dean pinched the back of Sam's shirt and hoisted him to his feet.

"Come on, help me look for a hex bag."

Sam groaned as he was lifted from the pillow.

"Witches Dean? Really?" His brother raised an eyebrow as if to say 'you have a better idea?'

Sam sighed, and roughly tugged his collar away from Dean's massive fingers.

"Fine. Lets look."

Walking to the edge of the bed, Sam looks at the drop and back up at Dean.

"You know what?" says Sam, his voice slightly higher "I'll start by looking on the bed."

"You do that." Dean gives him a mildly amused look. But it was fleeting, as he realized falling out of bed would probably kill him now.

He pushed himself to his feet and got searching everywhere else. He checked behind the nightstand, under the sink, in Sam's suitcase... Dean finally got on his hands and knees under the bed and felt around the metal grating under the mattress, feeling for any sort of protrusion. It was getting more and more hopeless all the while.

After briefly scowering the bed for any bulges and pushing past the pillows, Sam's small.. make that minuscule, well of hope dries up.

'Who am I kidding' he thinks to himself 'We've never known witches to do something like this...'

Sam pacing in circles on the bed, something unnerving him about the whole situation. Something besides him being the size of a Ken doll. Why would something do this? Witches weren't really for letting their victims live, much less force them to live through some embarrassing ... little...GAME!

"Dean!"

A resounding THUNK reverberated through the metal bedframe. Dean swore loudly and appeared shortly after, standing up and rubbing his head.

"I've got nothing." He announced. He did another mental sweep of the bed with his eyes. "You?" Even as he asked, Dean was already peering under the covers, double checking Sam's work.

Sam winced as Dean's head smack the bed beneath him, both out of shock and sympathy pain.

"Dean..." Sam repeated, "Since when do hex bags do something like this?" He gestured to himself, growing a little red in the face. "Since when do they leave people alive too?"

Though posed as a question, Sam didn't wait for an answer.

"Out off all the things we faced, what liked to mess with us?" he paused for a moment, seeing Dean's face stay blank. "Who.. who liked to mess with us on a seemingly impossible scale?"

That smirking, annoyingly smug face flashed in his minds she. And just like that, the answer hit him like a brick wall.  
"Trickster." Dean finished. How could he not have thought of that? "Friggin bastard..."

He took a few steps away from the bed, before raising his voice at the walls. "Alright, we get it, you're a real comedian. Game's over."

Nothing happened. He waited for anything else strange, any random people popping up at their door. No sign of the Trickster anywhere. Shouldn't he be rubbing in his latest joke-taken-way-too-literally?

Sam frowned. This wasn't helping his point. Though, the feeling in his gut didn't go away. It was Gabriel. It HAD to be. but... why wasn't he here to rub it in? Thinking back to their previous encounters the answer became clear... ish.

"Its a lesson." He moaned. "He wants to teach me a fricken lesson. Now?!"

Throwing his hands in there air out of exasperation, only to pause as he hears the cheap motel tv hiss to life in with staticy vigor. A smug. smiling, and all too familiar face appears on the screen. He looks towards Sam and winks,

"Bingo."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean pivots in place to face the screen.  
"What. The. HELL." He grits out.

"What?" Gabriel sighs in exasperation. "Don't tell me you didn't get the punch line." The two continue to stare at him, fuming. "...Little brother?"  
On cue, a laugh track plays on the sitcom the angel was interrupting. Dean rolls his eyes over to Sam, who looks even less amused than him.  
"Pretty cheesy, Gabe. Losing your touch after all that hooky?"  
Disappointed "oohs" coincided with the snarky smile fading a bit from the Trickster's face.  
"Now fix him!" Dean barked.  
"Mm, no can do, Deano. Hasn't learned his lesson yet."  
"We don't have time for this."  
"You do if I say so."

Dean's wristwatch slowed to a halt immediately, along with the old alarm clock on the nightstand. Oh yeah. Arch angel. Control of time and space and all that jazz. With the hunters finally quiet, Gabriel cheerfully continued.

"Come oooon, like I need a reason to mess with you two goofballs. I mean tell me that's not hilarious!" He gestured at Sam, giggling. "Besides, if you two wanna ice Lucifer, you need to be A-team material, not Aly and AJ."

Sam practically feels his blood carbonate on the spot, rushing through him, pounding in his head. He strides over to the edge of the bed, which to him, seem like long and powerful strides.

"What the Hell kind of lesson has to be learned out of," he pauses, making elaborate gestures up and down his body, "THIS!?"

The Arch Angel smiles mischiously, and points to himself, every movement dripping with sassyness.

"Mine." The sitcom style laughter erupts from the T.V and Gabriel raises and eyebrow, daring in them to speak. When no one does, he starts,

"You know, you two chuckleheads NEED this," his dart back and forth between Dean and Sam, "Thats right. It's not just about you moose," he pauses, making a face like the word tasted strange on his tongue. "Sorry, MOUSE."

Sam can't believe what he's hearing! This is ridiculous. This is stupid. This is... embarrassing as all Hell.

Dean clenches his teeth together till it hurts. He was beyond irritated. He was helpless to stop this from happening, and he HATED that feeling.

Gabriel glances behind him, a female voice giggling distantly through the speakers. His devious grin lingers on Dean a moment. He was wrapping things up.  
"Should be quite a ride." He taunted. A busty blonde appeared in the side of the screen and began playing with his collar.  
"Wait! What are we aiming for?" Dean tried.  
Gabriel just winks and turns away to make out violently with the actress. The tv fizzes with static, then goes blank.

They stand there for a moment, letting it all sink in. Dean slowly turns to face his very little brother on the bed. He couldn't have been bigger than... 6 inches, give or take.

"Well, fuck."

Shaking his head, Sam takes a seat on the bed.

"So, I'm supposed to wait this out?" he groans, his face growing red with embarrassment. He keeps his head down, pushing the wave of emotions down with it. 'Dont you dare cry.' he thinks to himself, 'you're tiny, not a baby.'

With an exasperated sigh, he looks up to his brother, hoping he has an answer, because for the first time in a long time, Sam has none.

The pathetic look on Sam's face melts away the hardness in Dean's expression. He'd always been a sucker for the puppy eyes...lying to preserve his innocence about their dad, giving him the biggest piece of chocolate when they were kids, and double checking a hunch while they were on a case. And right now Dean had to fight the urge to scoop up the little guy and hug the life out of him. He shook the thought away. No way was he gonna turn this into a chick flick moment.

Fabric shifting marked him moving over to the edge of the bed. He crouched down right in front of Sam, leveling himself to him.  
"You're gonna be fine, Sammy. We'll just... Deal with it until we figure out what he's after." He said, feigning the confidence Sam needed to hear. His green eyes flicked up and down Sam's shrunken form before standing up to put on his boots.

"So. Hungry? I saw this little diner 24-hour pancake house a couple miles away." It wasn't really a question. He made a quick sweep by the bed, carefully wrapping a hand around Sam's middle. He tried not to shiver. There were no words for how bizzare this was. And... Weirdly fascinating.  
"Whoa." Dean weighed him in his hand. "Dude, you're weightless!"

The hand had come so quickly that he'd had no time to react, but once in his brother's grip, Sam let loose, not only by instinct, but equally by pride.

"PUTMEDOWN!" It came out fast and harsh sounding like one long word. Sam figited wildly in his brother's grasp, less worried about the height, and more so, hating being man handled. The feeling of Dean's thick fingers around his body was sickening. With ease, he knew Dean could end him. Though it bugged his instincts, fear was not the full problem. Not even most of it.

He could feel the heat around his ears and cheeks, as his embarrassment overwhelmed him.

"Dean! I'm not a doll! Put me DOWN!"

Dean's eyebrows went skyward. Too surprised to argue, and partly afraid Sam might do something stupid and make a jump for it, he stopped short and put him back down on on the foot of the bed.

"I'm sorry, did you plan on _walking_ there?" He shot back. "If you've got a better idea, I'm all ears." He lowered his voice, sympathetic to the severely uncomfortable man standing below him.

Sam winced at the truth in Dean's words, but his embarrassment fueled an unrealistic anger deep inside of his gut.

"Dean," spat Sam, "Y-you're a walking skyscraper." Sam paused, seeing the hurt look sweep across his brother's face. With a sigh, he pushed down the rising emotion,

"Just... no more grabbing, okay?"

Wow. He didn't think he'd ever seen Sam so worked up. Dean drug his hand over his face and glanced away for a moment. This was so awkward. So, so awkward.

"Alright, alright. Calm down." He said, glancing down at himself. "Here, let's try this..." Dean dropped to one knee and extended an open hand at the edge of the bed. The fingers curled impatiently, urging him forward.

"Make up your mind, I'm hungry." He understood Sam's trepidation, but at the same time, he knew the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he would stop freaking out over it. Probably.

Sam sighed. He REALLY didnt want to be carried. He was the big one. Dean may have been the big brother, but at least he had been bigger. That one thing that made him feel grown up. He had no longer been "little sammy," no longer a shrimp, shorty, or a midget... but now it seemed to crash upon him.

He was small. Helpless. God he hated that word. Looking back at Dean and seeing his impatience, Sam swallowed his pride and climbed onto Dean's hand. The spongy sensation of his skin under Sams feet made his skin crawl.

Sam's shaggy hair was lightly ruffled when Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Those crazy small feet singularly putting weight onto his palm... It was hard to believe this was the sturdy hunter he'd helped raise.

He stood up, but he didn't move to leave. He just sorta gawked at his own brother. He was so tiny. He hadn't been taller than him since... Sam's junior year of high school. It was almost... Nice. Being needed again.

"This isn't weird at all." Dean shook his head, summoning a clear mind. He headed for the door, keys in hand. The morning air was just nippy enough to make him miss his jacket. But he wasn't checking out just yet.

"Excuse me?" Dean nearly jumped out of his skin, in the middle of locking he door. In a hasty motion, he shoved the hand bearing Sam into his jeans pocket.  
"Huh?" He whirled around sharply. He saw a young lady with tatooes up her arms. She blinked, then nodded at the impala.  
"That your car?"  
"Yeah." Dean said proudly.  
"Nice." She grinned in blatant approval, giving it a lingering look as she walked away.

"AGKK! DEAN!" Shouted Sam from the pocket. The confines of the pocket were certainly far from what Sam would think of as being ideal. Even at his smalls size, he was still tightly compressed to Dean's thigh, and there was even less room to to the fact Dean kept ahold of him, even in the pocket.

Worse than the confines, was the smell. When was the last time Dean had washed these? Looking down Sam swore he could see sand bunched up in the corner of the pocket... wait... no... Was that.. steak spice?!

"Real classy Dean," mumbled Sam under his breath. With what little wind up he could muster in the limited space of the pocket, Sam threw punch into Dean's thigh.

In an attempt to pretend he didn't feel a tiny person wriggling around in his pocket, Dean ended up looking mildly constipated. No wonder that chick wasn't hitting on him. He looked like he might spaz out at ayn second. Dean withdrew Sam out as the girl walked away, but kept he hand cupped against his stomach until he was sitting in the security of the impala's driver's seat.

"Close call." He pulled away his hand and a tiny and very pissed Sam tumbled to the center of his palm. Almost immediately, he was lifted higher, under the close scrutiny of his older brother. "...You're okay, right? I didn't... Uh..." Dean strayed away from phrases like "break you" or "squished to a pulp".

"Smother me?" Snaps Sam, "Yeah, you did!"  
This close to his brother's face Sam sees Dean's concern magnified 10 fold. Blushing again, Sam, pushes the face away (well as much as he can).  
"I'm fine Dean."

Dean blinks and wrinkles his nose when two doll-sized hands push at his chin. He pulls away, looking rather relieved in spite of things. If Sam was bitchin' at him, he was in relatively good shape.

"Yeah, well, next time I'll be sure to introduce you." He muttered sarcastically. He moved his hand over the bench seat, looking conflicted on where to put Sam. He'd feel better with him on his lap, but that would just add a little dollop of "queer" to this already nutty situation. He finally settled on setting him down in the middle.

"Besides, you were only in there for like two seconds." He justified himself, relieving himself of a groan of guilt as he started up the car and backed out of the complex.

"A second is all it takes to smell your nasty jeans." mutter Sam under his breath. As Dean picked up speed, he found himself sliding, nearly tumbling, backwards.

"Uhhh, Dean?"

His massive brother doesn't seem to hear him and as he turns a corner sharply, Sam is toss about only barely managing to stay on the seat.

"DEAN!"

A huge hand shoot down to pin him in place, the other still on the wheel. Dean glanced down at the bit of Sam looking at him upside down from between his forefinger and thumb. The pressure increased when Dean had to hit the brakes hard to avoid colliding with the car ahead.

"Sorry, Sammy." He gingerly plucked his brother off the seat and gathered him close to his abdomen. His eyes were back on the road.

His embarrassment and pride temporarily set aside, Sam clings to Dean's hand, wishing his brother would drive less... well, less like himself.

What seemed like an eternity of twisting and winding roads, but what had actually been a 10 minute drive with 3 red lights, 2 right turns and one left hand turn, Sam feels the engine's roar die down. He lets loose an audible sigh. Thank God that was over. Sam clung tightly to Dean's thumb unable to release the death grip he'd adopted over it.

Dean tilts his head down, feeling a minor wave of self loathing. Whether Sam liked it or not, this incident was quickly proving what Dean had suspected from the start: Sam was incredibly fragile now. He had to be constantly on guard, lest his brother die- God forbid- at his own hand. Was that what Gabriel was getting at? Wanting them to be vigilant?

Dean flexed the hand Sam clung to, not really having the heart to pull away completely while he was still clinging like that.  
"I'm gonna run in and place a to-go order. You want your usually hippie health shake or something else?"

Sam groans, "Not really hungry..." before laying his head against the top of Dean's thumb.

"Just get something that won't get nasty later on..."

Dean pried his little brother off of his thumb and laid him on the seat with surprising gentleness.  
"Don't puke on the upholstery."

He left the windows cracked an inch and waited for the satisfying click of the lock before heading inside 'Starr's pancake house'. Already, he could feel time ticking by, paranoid about leaving Sam alone. But taking a deep whiff of the greasy smell of bacon and eggs on the griddle, Dean knew he had made the right decision in stopping by.

Sam sat, back against the sit, feeling dwarfed by all around him. Though, he was more than grateful for some alone alone time. Some time to take it all in. And there was quite a bit a bit to take in.

Before the miniature hunter could isolate himself in his thoughts, he heard the radio buzz to life, filled with an all too familiar voice

"Well hellooooOOoOoo Sammy!" Laughed Gabriel, in a mock radio voice, "Enjoy that car ride? I know I sure enjoyed watching it!"

The groan that escaped Sam sounded oddly similar to a growl,

"What do you want Gabriel?" Spat Sam,

"What I want," says Gabriel, his voice lowering "Is to have a little fun."

Sam sighs, and feels a bit of his normal sarcasm returning.

"Sorry man, I dont swing that way."

"Har har har," drones the Angel, sarcasm practically dripping from the car's speaking, "Aren't we a comedic little mouse."

Sam's face flashes a bright red as he shouts at the dash,

"I'm tired of all you angelic bastards screwing with my life! If you think fo-"

"Sheesh." interjects Gabriel, "I'll come back when Dean decides to muzzle his chihuahua."  
There a momentary pause before Gabriel's voice returns, having once again adopted a radioesque style.  
"And now we have a little treat for our listeners. Get ready for some Elton John!" Gabriels voice cuts out, and the impala is soon filled a smooth voice singing tiny dancer.

"VERY FUCKING FUNNY!"


	3. Chapter 3

A crumpled up receipt with a phone number scrawled on the back drops to the curb and bounces under the rim of a vintage black car. Normally, Dean would have brandished the number to Sam like a small trophy for winning the genetic lottery. But if he was being honest with himself, he knew he wouldn't get around to calling her back. He had enough on his plate as it was.

Dean returned to the car and peered in the window. To his relief, Sam was right where he left him. The plastic and styrofoam rustled and squeaked against each other as he slid into the driver's seat once more. The door slammed shut , but then he paused and frowned, noticing for the first time 'Itty Bitty Pretty One' was playing.

"Whew. That's an oldie." Judging by the reddened look of pure irritation on little Sam's face, the irony did not pass him by. Dean started to go through the bag to hand out the food- then once again did a double take between Sam and the radio.  
"Wait. How did you even..?"

"Fucking Angels," murmured Sam, not bothering to look his brother in the eyes.

"Change the station. God pleeeaaase change it." Sam hears Dean moving above him, and feels even more pathetic. He cant even change the radio station. This was Hell. The next channel spews out "In my eyes you're a giant," to which Sam throes his arms up in frustration.

It was bad enough he was stuck as a travel size version of himself, but did he really have to be humiliated all the while?

Dean looks uncomfortable from the size reference, and after a minute of fruitless searching, he shut the radio off altogether.

"Anyway, I got you an egg white spinach sandwich." Dean announced proudly. "Healthiest thing on the menu." Also the grossest, in his opinion. But they had been through this argument countless times. He opened up the box and pinched a corner, tearing off a little piece and passing it down to Sam.

Something inside of Sam rumbled, and even though he didnt want to admit it, he was starving. Greedily, he plucked the sandwich piece from Deans grasp and quickly devoured it.

"Thanks."

"And you said you weren't hungry.." Dean smiled and shook his head at the to-go box in his lap. He unwrapped his own egg and bacon sandwich and took a hefty bite out of it. He was halfway finished before he spoke again.

"I think I'm gonna give Stan a call... Ask him to pick up that case in Maryland for me."  
Dean dug out his cell phone from his pants pocket and started flipping through the contacts. He dirt want to make Sam feel worse, but the fact was the couldn't hunt anymore. Sam would be easy prey. Until further notice, Dean was on glorified babysitting duty.

Sam knew what that meant. It was just like when he was a kid, too weak, too vulnerable to do anything. It insulted him, but he wan't going to argue, frankly, he didnt want to go on a hunt like this. Not by a long shot. Even so, it didnt help his rapidly deflating ego.

Trying to keep his mind off, well, everything, Sam made his way towards the styrofoam container containing the rest of his sandwich, and hopped in as if he was hoping a low fence. He occupied himself by picking of small chunks of bread and sandwich guts, trying to replicate a mini sandwich.

Without looking up, he asks,

"So what do we do in the mean time?"

Dean looked up from the phone,'his thumb hovering over the call button. What DID they do in the meantime? He was so used to hopping from one case to the other... Leisure time longer than 6 hours was a foreign concept to him.

"I've always wanted to see Lady Liberty in person." Dean pursed his lips in thought, entertaining the notion of something as pleasant as a regular, no-supernatural creature road trip. "You up for a little sightseeing?"

He catches a glimpse of Sam in the half-open box and stares openly. Dean cracked a smile, thinking of how much he would freak if he pretended to mistake him for the sandwich. Then immediately, he was disgusted that the thought had even flickered through his mind. That was stupid any awful and...stupid. And certainly not funny.

Still putting together mini sandwiches, Sam nods absent mindedly.

"Why not?" Looking up, he sees Dean has a strange expression on his face,

"Dean?" Sam asks, eyeing his enormous brother. "You okay?"

Dean shakes his head and busies himself with wrapping up the foil from his own sandwich.  
"Just gonna take some getting used to." He said vaguely, though it was obvious what he was talking about.

He leaned back with the A/c cranked up, stretching out his legs as much as he could in the front seat. He was not yet paranoid about his every move, but he could feel a tiny pair of eyes on him constantly.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"You try saying that when you're bite-sized." quips Sam, as his eyes lock on his brothers maw.

Sam decided to drop it, knowing Dean would keep things to himself as always. More so, he wanted an excuse to finally soak it all in. He stared up at his big brother, eyes wide. Dean was enormous. A mountain of a man. Sam would never admit it, but he briefly wished that it could be the other way around... that Dean could be the small one, and for once, he would have to take care of his brother.

Once their breakfast was condensed into one paper trash bag on the floor, they were unable to ignore each other anymore. As if in a trance, Dean started to reach forward, turning his hand palm up for Sam. It was weird, how he normally wasn't a touchy-feely guy... Anyway, Sam seemed to get the memo, and reluctantly mustered up the willpower to step aboard the giant hand. Dean lifts him to eye level, finally able to see him clearly again.

"God, this is so weird..." Sam mumbles, trying to get his footing on the strange surface of Dean's hand. Giving up, he sits down and stares into Dean's massive eyes. The closeness unnerves him, and he shifts and his brothers heavy gaze.

"You think?" Dean lowered the hand a bit, giving him a "thanks for that, Sherlock" look over his nose.

Absentmindedly, Sam slowly drags his tiny hand over Dean's enormous one, feeling all the ridges and calloused skin.

"What do you think Gabriel meant by a lesson?"

"Dunno." Dean raised his eyebrows in thought, willing himself past the distraction of Sam's dime-sized hand. "He could just be screwing with us. If we could get our hands on some more holy oil, maybe we could track him down and choke a cure outta him."

Even as he said it, he wasn't believing it himself. They had zero leads on Gabriel's location, and it would most likely stay that way, seeing as the arch-angel didn't want to be found. Dean frowned more deeply, racking his brain.

"He didn't have a problem icing me some six dozen times, right? What was he trying to prove that time?"

Sam shuddered, remembering all the different deaths that Dean had gone through. Him being helpless everytime...  
"He wanted to show me that sometimes things are out of our control. That I had to be able to let you go..." the words seemed to leave a bad taste on his mouth, even now.

The particular wording resounded deeply with the older man. He flashed back to how close Sam had come to flying right into the car wall. As fragile as a baby bird now, just about. Dean couldn't help but wonder whether the same lesson was being turned on him. What if he was going to have to watch his brother die like this? Or worse, have HJM kill Sam to prove some angel crap about the apocalypse?

"Angels have a real sick sense of humor." Dean said darkly, cupping his hand more around Sam unconsciously.

The gesture went unappreciated. It actually infuriated Sam. All the self loathing, all the thoughts about him being pathetic flew from his mind as he aggreesively shoved Dean's hand away.

"I'm still ME Dean." He felt his anger crackling in the air around him, like static electricity,  
"I'm not some wounded puppy, or glass doll thats gunna shatter if you touch it." Sam glared up at his brother, and felt a more than a little intimidated. He continued on, but with less Gusto,

"I'm still human... still a hunter..."

The protective fingers reeled back to their former positions as Dean straightened in his seat.

"What are you going to hunt, a dragonfly?" Dean didn't mean for it to come out as harshly as it did. He gauged the slight fear that flickered over his little brothers face. Still so scared of him, wasn't he? Just super..

"I get it." He said, meeting his eyes with sincerity. "No one's sayin' you're a Ken doll, so get whatever kinky nightmare you have outta mind."

Sam rolled his eyes. Though he would never admit it, the humor was appreciated. It made things seem more normal.

"Dean." Spoke Sam clearly, "You dont need to worry, I can take care of myself."

Dean's face had been straight up until that point. Now he was biting back an amused smile, like he was watching a puppy try to bark at him. He didn't refute him, though, just switched hands holding him so he could buckle up. He started to lower him to his lap again, then thought of something better. He went for the shoulder instead.

Sam wobbled to regain balance. He tried not to overthink the situation. He was on his brothers shoulder. He was THAT small. The thought sickened him. What was worse was the drop that was now clearly visible from his vantage point. Sam sucked in a deep breath. If he was going to prove to Dean he could handle it, he would have to suck it up.

On unsteady legs, Sam shuffled closer to Dean's neck, attempting to find somewhere on his brother where he doesnt feel as if he'll topple over as soon as the breaks are hit. Dean figits under his tiny feet, and Sam is forced to grab his brother's ear in order to stay standing.

"Quit moving!"

"I'm not!"

He instinctively throws up a hand to save his ear, and had to remind himself it was SAM, so of course he couldn't just whack him off. His big hand swiped at Sam's smaller ones, unintentionally making his little brother stumble back a few steps toward the back of the seat. He turned his head to try and see him, but Sam was too close to his neck to be included in his peripheral vision. Resigning to staring at the dashboard, Dean grumbled,  
"Just grab my shirt collar or something."

With a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips, Sam complies. He sits down, leaning against Dean's neck. His small fingers reach out ans grasp the collar of Dean's shirt. The fabric feels oddly thick and coarse in his hand, reminding him once again just how small he is.

After about 20 minutes of forced small talk and awkward silences, Dean leans forward and grabs a cassette tape at random. He switches it out with the previous one in the player just as the light turns green. The car lurches back into smooth motion and led zepplin's greatest hits start up. He tried to focus on the road, and not the empty passenger seat to his right. Of course, it wasn't like he was alone. Sam was, technically, closer than ever.

The bassline to 'whole lotta love' starts up, and Dean drums the steering wheel in perfect time as he scans the upcoming exits.

At first, Sam wants to tell him to turn down the music, but he hesitates as an idea bubbled forth. He sees how awkward Dean is around him, how cautious. The idea builds up until he's compelled to act it out. The beat seems to entice him, begging him to take action...

"You need coolin,  
baby, I'm not foolin,  
I'm gunna send you,  
back to schoolin,"

He belts out the notes loud, and slightly off key, but he makes up for the lack of vocal skill with a foreign enthusiasm he didn't know he had. Even though he knew Dean couldn't see him, he leaned against his brother's neck passionately playing air guitar.

Dean stiffened, gripping the steering wheel. He risked speeding more than he already was by glancing several times toward his occupied shoulder. Sam always complained about the same repeating songs on their long journeys, how his taste of music was out of date...

But yep, he was definitely rocking out. He sounded ridiculous, but right now... Ridiculous kinda fit the bill for them.

"Way down inside,  
Honey you and me,  
I'm gonna give you my love,  
I'm gonna give you my love.."

Dean couldn't hit the last note so he mouthed it like a pro, complete with the smokey rockstar look he must have practiced in the bathroom mirror.

The end of the world as they knew was supposedly mere months away, and here they were, jamming out like wanna be rock stars.

Deans voice filled him. The vibrations rumbled, as Dean's gruff baritone resounded in Sam's chest. They feeling was awkward, but not unpleasant. As Dean belted his heart out, Sam couldnt help but smile. Why didn't they have this much fun normally? Sam paused mid thought. Had Dean's voice always been this smooth? Sam's voice slowly faded as he listened to Dean sing... But the vibrations had stopped... and the voice kept singing.

Sam head spun to the source of the sound, the passenger seat, where Gabriel sat with a smile that could shame the Cheshire Cat.

"What?" smirks Gabriel, staring right back at Sam, "I can't join the moment?"

"What the-" Dean swivels his attention onto the sudden addition to the car. Everyone is jerked to the right as he jumps to correct the dangerously swerving Impala. A couple cars behind them honk long and loud.

"DAMN IT!" Dean's shout fills the car. The song shuts off mid-guitar riff as the startled driver jabs the aux button. He glances briefly in the rearview mirror, glimpsing the honda civic behind flipping him the bird. He turns his full anger onto a thoroughly entertained Gabriel.  
"You gonna watch us piss next? What the hell?" But this could be their chance! Dean was already making to pull over to the side of the road. They had a smidge of holy oil leftover in the trunk..

The steering wheel abruptly turned back to center and locked in place. Dean jerked at it, but it wouldn't budge.

"Guys. Relax." Gabriel leaned back against the leather seat like he owned it. A vein pulsed angrily in Dean's neck.

"Uh... Dean?" said Sam awkwardly, as he hung from the flap of Dean's pocket, still a little disoriented from the swerve. The angel snickered, but remained quite as he watched the pair. Sam fired off a glare that would have been intimidating, had he not been 6 inches tall, and hanging from his brothers shirt pocket.

Dean seemed reluctant to tear his gaze away from Gabriel, as though he might vanish again. A quick glance down, however, informed him how the sudden event had turned out for Sam. Dean didn't say anything as he plucked his brother off in one hand and tucked him back atop his shoulder.

"Aw." Gabriel cooed.  
Dean sent him a murderous look.

Gabriel lifted his arms up in mock surrender,

"Easy there tiger."

He lifted his feet onto the dash as the seat reclined with out him moving a finger.  
"So," started Gabriel, as he pulled a sucker out from thin air and twirled it lazily between his fingers, "Having fun?"

"What do you want Gabriel?" Growled Sam from his perch. The Angel rolled his eyes,

"Zip it kiddo, the big kids are talking." He made a quick motion of zipping his lips, and suddenly, it felt as if Sam's breath had been pulled out from him. He opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. He tried again. Nothing. 'Just great.' thought sam 'just fucking great.'

The lack of a protest or snarky reply from Sam hinted that Gabriel had pulled another trick outta the proverbial bag. Dean snuck a worried glance at his shoulder. Still couldn't see much of Sammy, but he was still there.  
"I don't see why _you're_ so upset, Dean."  
"Is that a joke?" Dean snarled, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles. "You turned my brother into a fuckin Polly pocke-"  
"I've made your job the easiest it's been in years." The angel spoke over top of him. "Kinda nice isn't it? Being able to keep an eye on him all the time? Not having to worry about him sneaking out with some hot little demon ass or kickstarting the apocalypse..."

The impala's engine thrummed over the highway. Dean was quiet. He couldn't deny the allure in that.

"You're full of shit, anyone ever tell you that?" Dean said eventually.

"Keep up that attitude and you," quipped the angel, pointing his sucker at Dean, "will be having just as much fun as Sammy."

Sam could feel his face growing red hot. Being shut out of the conversation like some little kid was just as humiliating as the whole size ordeal. He grit his teeth in his rage filled silence as he watched Gabriel toy with his brother.

Dean grunted, begrudgingly toning it down. For a moment.

"You'll go so far out of your way to screw with us, but you won't lift a finger to stop the doomsday squad upstairs."

Gabriel's smug look became dangerously icy. Dean secretly wondered if he had finally pushed him to his limit. But the Trickster's answer, though guarded, was as relaxed as ever.

"You know how politics are. I'm stayin' out of that mess." He slurped noisily on the lollipop, then chuckled to himself.  
"Can you imagine... Lucy trying to squeeze into a vessel that size? Be like the ugly stepsister wearing a teeny glass slipper."

He held up a finger and thumb, looking right at Sam as he exaggerated his shrunken stature. As usual, the Winchesters failed to share his sense of humor. Dean, officially out of patience and self-control, made a one-handed lunge for him. He grasped empty air.

Gabriel's words struck Sam... _Can you imagine Lucy trying to fit in that vessel?_ Was that it? Was that the point? Not some lesson but a way to keep him from becoming a vessel? Did he not trust him? Did he think he's say yes? Sam was so deep in thought he almost missed the parting gift the angel had left Dean,  
"Uhh Dean," cough Sam, his voice hoarse, feeling like he had just woken up. He bit his lip, not knowing how to proceed.  
"Maybe you should be more careful when you talk to arch angels..." Sam paused, stiffling his laughter,  
"Your hair..." continued Sam. He felt Dean tense up. His brow furrowed.

Dean pulled down the drivers side mirror, urgently checking his appearance. He caught a limited glimpse of the flaming pink hair color, all the way down to the roots.

He slammed the mirror shut again roughly.  
"DAMMIT!" Dean shouted.

He was dying to hit something. Preferably Gabriel.

A/N: Thanks to those of you already following this crazy story in its early launch! There's LOTS more to come, just posting it in intervals.

Check out these illustrations of this chapter done by me and my co-author-

art/Pinky-413585616

art/Uh-Dean-420435628?q=gallery%3AObsess-Confess%2F15107032&qo=32


	4. Chapter 4

Dean had to endure two more hours on the road with this stifling frustration. The lady at the motel have him a strange look. She hesitated to give him a room at all, judging by his gruff behavior and whimsical pink hairstyle. But he managed to convince her it was just a college prank, and no ma'am, he wasn't a part of those goth cults.

Finally behind the closed door of a lower manhattan motel room, Dean almost immediately slumped with relief.

Privacy. Beds. TV.

"At least the bathroom's a decent size." He announced, dropping his bag on the floor along with Sam's. He didn't know why he bothered bringing it; it wasn't like any of his clothes fit him right now.

He scooped his brother off his shoulder in a fist and let him off on the pillow. Then he collapsed on the other side with a loud sigh. Dean folded his arms across his chest and closed his eyes.

Sam momentarily became airbourne as Dean's body hit the mattress. Sam inhales sharply, and feels his heart ramming against his ribcage. As he exhales, he seems to calm his nerves somewhat. God what he'd give for this to be over.

Looking over at Dean, Sam felt the weight of the situation fall on him. Now that he was finally able to sit and think, it seemed to all fall on him. He was small. Not just small, he was tiny! Dwarfed by his brother that he once towered over... This whole situation... It made him feel so pathetic. So utterly useless.

No. He wouldn't let Gabriel get to him. Hadn't he just argued that he was still a hunter? Still capable? So he was small. So what? Its not like this was the first time the odds weren't in his favor. Though, he didnt need to prove it to himself... it was Dean that needed to know he was just as capable as ever.

Turning to Dean, his pink hair looking oddly florescent in the light of the nightstand lamp, Sam half smiled. Had he really dozed off that fast? Or was he just messing with him?

Sam wasn't exactly a chatter box on a good day. But this kind of quiet isn't normal. It's annoying, and yet makes Dean feel guilty for some weird reason. He keeps his eyes closed for a bit, knowing it was probably a relief for his little bro. Sam looked at him mostly now like he was a monster. "a walking skyscraper". It wasn't his fault of course, but it was rather disheartening. Especially when he knew this went behind the size thing.

He inhaled deeply, lets it out again. Shower sounded good right now. Hot shower. But the bed was comfortable..

"You keep staring at me like that, people are gonna get the wrong idea." Dean didn't move from his position.

Sam jumped at the sudden voice, and mentally scolded himself right after for being so skittish.

"Well, keeping your brother in the Sam bed with you doesn't really help either," chirped Sam, raising an eyebrow. " and neither does the pink hair."

In all honesty, Sam was still on edge around Dean... around everything. His instincts begged him to hide... to find somewhere safe... but his mind pushed those thoughts away. This is safe.

Dean cracked an eye open, turning his head to look at him.  
"'The Sam bed'?" An amused smile tugged at his lips, momentarily forgetting to be disgruntled about everything. He chuckled genuinely. "Heh, I hope you don't mind me using the Sam Pillow."

"Yes, the Sam bed! This," he gestured to the bed length, "Is mine. This is the Sam bed." He pointed with a dramatic gesture to the other bed,

"Thats the Dean bed." Sam marched up towards his Dean's face, wearing a playful smirk.

"Cause I need the leg room." Sam stood directly infront of Dean's side turned head, and placed his boot somewhat roughly against his brother's massive nose.

"And you, Pinky, are most certainly NOT touching my pillow."

Dean made a face and turned his head away for a moment- out of reaction, not that the kick had really done more than agitate.

"Uh-huh.." When he faced him again, his big green eyes were alight with jackass mischief. "But.. I'm so tiirrred..dunno if I can get up." He sighed exaggeratedly as he rolled onto his side, dropping a hand over Sam and getting comfortable on the bed.

As a natural reflex Sam pushed at the fingers, but they didnt give way. Sam momentarily panicked, as a sudden claustrophobia engulfed him. Taking in a deep breath, he calmed his frantic heart and let a mischievous smile crawl across his face.

Eyeing the Dean's sleeve, Sam slipped out from under the hand, and darted up the flannel passage way, half ducking half crawling, as he climbed his way up the dark tunnel of his brother's clothing.

"You really think you'll catch me that easy?" laughs Sam as he continues his way up Dean's arm.

"Whoa. Dude!" Dean's startled voice reverberated loudly through the air. "Not okay."

The hand previously covering him flexed as Dwan suppressed shivers from the ckmpelte willies he was getting from the tiny hands , knees, and feet dug into his bare skin. He sat up halfway, raising his arm. With a small sluumph, a Sam-sized lump slid to the crook of the shirt sleeve, at his elbow. But he didn't stop.

Sam's only reply was amused laughter as he struggled to continue towards Dean's shoulder with the fabric becoming tighter around Dean's bicep. The higher he went the tighter the fabric became, and as Sam reached the shoulder, he came to the embarrassing realization that he had gotten himself stuck under the taut fabric.

"You're kidding me." Dean immediately shot down at the lump protruding from the bottom of his shoulder. He could feel the tautness, too. He flexed his arm quick for kicks.  
"Okay, now you're good.." He gave a short laugh, then started unbuttoning his shirt. Bit by bit the sleeve loosened enough that Sam could move again. But brides he could get much further, Dean shoved a hand down and snatched Sam up in a first. "Whoa there, cowboy. I don't need you climbing all over me with your tiny little self." He gave a visible shift of discomfort, shaking off the sensation.

Sam's muffled reply seeps out from between Deans fingers in a snarky, sarcastic little voice,

"And I don't need a giant flamingo in MY bed."

Dean grins. Now that sounded more like his Sammy. He unfurled his fist to reveal a slightly squished looking Sam.  
"Puh-lease. This bed is lucky to have me." Dean replied, not even caring if it made sense.

Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, sure Dean." yawned Sam rubbing his eyes. His energy had burned out pretty fast. Almost suspiciously fast. Realizing he probably should have ate sometime between breakfast and now, Sam leans back resting his frame against Dean's slightly curled fingers, too tired to care about pride.

Dean is both touched and uncomfortable with the somewhat vulnerable action. He just looks so... Fragile. Like a strong wind might blow him away. So tired.

"I'm gonna order some pizza." He announced, more quietly than usual. His hand lowered to a view of his rumpled shirt as he got to his feet and gently dumped Sam back on the bed where he had laid. He pulled out his phone and paced over to the window, peering out at the nearly vacant parking lot as he placed an order for a medium pepperoni- green peppers on one half like Sam liked.  
"Should be here in twenty." Dean said, coming to stand back by the bed. A strange look crossed his face. "You don't, uh...you don't have to use the bathroom, do ya?"  
It suddenly occurred to him that vastness of simple tasks that Sam was handicapped from now.

Sam furrowed his brow. Now that it was mentioned, he definitely did.

"Uh.." started Sam, "Just... drop me off at the sink." Sam stretched his once long body as he sat up, scratching his chin. He was exhausted. Too exhausted to care at this point, even though he knew he'd be embarrassed come morning.

Dean showed his sympathy by remaining silent. There was no denying this sucked royally. He slid a hand over to Sma on the bedspread, then added pressure so gravity pulled the little guy into his palm. He cupped his second hand loosely around the first for added security as he carried Sam to the bathroom sink.

"Just.. Y'know, holler..." He was so entranced by the bizarre comparison of his brother IN a sink that Dean nearly ran into the door on his way out.

After being dropped off in the sink, Sam hurriedly relieved himself. While doing so he realized he wouldn't be able to wash his hands without his brothers help. The thought was more than a little embarrassing. The embarrassment seemed to stroke Sam's fiery pride as he resolved that he would do this once simple task himself. With a running jump, Sam managed to grab the edge of the sink, though he immediately began to slip due to the smooth porcelain surface. In a hasty motion, Sam awkwardly swung his leg up, helping him pull himself out.

Once out of the sink, Sam walked towards the knob and gave it a shove. The tap gave way much easier than expected. Sam smiled to himself, his pride flourishing in this small triumph. He shimmied up the tap, straddling it like a horse as he slid his hands under the stream.

After getting down from the tap, Sam realized the lip of the knob was just a bit too far for him to reach. With a sigh, he decided it was due time to call Dean.

Dean's distinctive footsteps shuffled to the door.

"Look at you." His face lit up a bit at the sight. Now that the shock was wearing off, there was something entertaining about a six inch Sam Winchester. Annoying, absurd, and frustrating as hell... But entertaining none the less.

He came over and let Sam hop onto his extended palm. "As much as I love toting you around everywhere," Dean began with a note of sarcasm. "I'm drawing the line at tucking you into bed." To show what he was talking about, Dean gestured to a spare pillow from Sam's bed and had propped it up in such a way that it curved from the floor to the very edge of the mattress. He was quite proud of the simple improvisation. "Here, check it out."

Air rushed past like the tower of terror as he crouched down to let Sam off on the floor. He stood up slowly and took a few steps back to watch.

Sam was honestly flattered by Dean's improvised bed. He grabbed the edges of the pillow and hoisted himself up. God, it was an awkward thing to climb. Sam resorted to a sort of half climb, half crawl method, until he reached a more flat area. The pillow sank wuth each of his steps as Sam waddled towards the center. Looking up at his brther, he smiled and shrugged.

"Not bad,"

Sam jumped up and flopped onto his back. While the downsides to his new height proved to be innumerable, this... this was most certainly a bonus. The cold fabric of the pillow surronded him, as his body sunk in. The softness seemed to embrace him as he squirmed to create the perfect dent arround himself. Wow. He could get used to sleeping like this.

Sam tugged off his shirt, and tossed it to the floor. As he untied his boots, he gave a frustrated sigh upon noticing that he'd have to wear the Sam clothes until all of this was over. Great.

A chill shot up his spine, air around him seemed to buzz momentarily. A confused look washed across his face. His boots had disappeared. More so, his jeans had been replaced with bright blue pajama bottoms... covered in little cartoon moose. He noticed a shirt now covered his once bare chest. Matching the pants, the shirt too was bright blue, with one large moose head on the front. Sam groaned.

"Real funny Gabriel." Sam paused. His boxers felt weird. 'No...' was his only thought as he peaked down his pants. He could practically hear the Arch Angel's guffaws. Sam stared at a clean new pair if underwear, decorated with hearts, each with Gabriel's name on the inside.

"Come on!"

Dean did a double take. The change was instantaneous, as it usually was with Gabriel. In two swift strides, he was kneeling at the bedside, his big face crowding in to see Sam more clearly.

"He's really pulling out all the stops for this one." He said, just before a shutter sounded out. Dean beams at the screen, having captured an image of Sam just as he looked up.  
"Hey could you turn a little more to the left? I didn't get all of the shirt in that one."

Sam's face reddened to the point it seemed he could fry an egg on his cheek. He lunged at the cellphone, but tripped on the strange, uneven surface of his pillow-bed, causing him to face plant. To make matters worse, as he tumbled, he managed to let his pajama pants slip, reveling his new and highly undesired underwear to Dean.

Dean snickered, pinching his little brother by the hips and dangling him upside down. "Oh wow." He grinned. "Those a gift, or have you just been saving them for a special day?" He set a very embarrassed Sam back on his feet on the pillow, keeping his hand near so he wouldn't trip.  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He said, still laughing but trying to assuage his little bro. "Come on, I haven't been able to pick you up since you were thirteen."

Sam swatted at his brother's fingers, and shooting him a death glare like no other. He hated how Dean towered over him. He hated how he could pick him up with ease. It was as if his tiny flame of pride had been snuffed between those giant fingers. Though, Sam swallowed his anger. Something about the look in Dean's eyes forced him to feel almost guilty. The anger may have subsided, but the embarrassment was still there, and it welled inside of him, drowning any remaining embers of pride.

"I just want this to be over..."

Dean had expected a little more fight in reply. To his mild surprise, Sam let him get away with it. Not even a vulgar word hurled in his direction. His set the phone aside, smile fading somewhat.  
"Well, enjoy the king sized bed while it lasts." He finally said, giving Sam a pat on the back that just about throws him to his knees. Dean makes a face and pulls his hand away. "My bad.." The mumble became distant as he slapped his hands on his thighs and pushed himself to his feet.

He changed out of his clothes, opting for just undershirt and boxers for bed. After glancing over his shoulder to make sure Sammy wasn't watching, he gave his bluejeans a quick sniff. Right after, he tossed them into the corner in a crumpled heap and climbed into his own bed. Alright, so maybe they could visit a laundromat tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam drifted off, exhaustion taking hold. His night seemed to pass dreamlessly, and he was only ever able to sleep for what seemed like a few minutes at a time. Every noise, every creak, it was all so loud, and at his new size, his body was on red alert. With a groan, he stubble out of his make shift bed. The cold air that greeted him seemed to tear though his clothes and gnaw at his skin.

With a shiver, Sam pressed onwards. His need to move about to walk off his sleeplessness seemed to posses him. He trotted away from his bed, opting for for a brisk pace to outrun the morning chill. Looking towards the clock, he sighed noticing it was 5 am. The knowledge that he would later regret this whispered at the back of his mind, but he shut it out. His groggy morning thoughts begged him for caffeine. What he would do for a coffee right now...

An idea started to crawl out from the hazy morning mist in Sam's mind. With a new found goal, Sam set out towards the cupboard, eyeing the coffee machine. Opening the door on the small kitchenette cupboard, Sam took to climbing the closely separated shelves on the inside. Once at the top, he took a leap towards the the top of the open door, pulled himself up, and straddled it.

Sam drew in a deep breath, trying to forget that one slip up and he's be dead. Dead over a cup of coffee.

"Dont fuck up..." he mumbled to himself.

With shaky legs Sam made the final step onto the counter top of the kitchenette, smiling victoriously. The rest of the work seemed easy in comparison. Using an overturned cup, he was able to reach the buttons, and fill the machine, (which had thankfully already had water inside) and slid another cup underneath the spout. All there was left to do was wait until the brew was ready.

Looking over the counter edge Sam sighed. Maybe he'd wait till Dean was up before he'd get down.

Dean's eyes snapped open. Something was burning. He sat bolt upriht, immediately looking to Sam's bed. There was no one in sight. Then again, maybe he just couldn't see the little guy from here in the dark. He tossed off the covers and looked over the Sam bed... Empty. It was then he realized it wasn't smoke he smelled. It was... Coffee?

He came over to the little kitchenette area, finding steam condensed inside the water tank of the coffee maker and a fresh cup waiting for him.

Weirded out, he cautiously picked it up.

"Woah woah woah!" Yelped Sam, who'd tightly gripped the handle of the mug with both his arms and legs. "Make your own!"

Dean turned the mug a bit to the right, and A blonde eyebrow went sharply upward when he noticed Sam.  
"Talk about hiding in plain sight.." His voice came out deep and groggy. It disturbed him that he hadn't even seen the tiny hunter in the dark. He turned the cup a little more so he could wrap his thumb finger and thumb around Sam's lower back and tug him off the handle. It took him a minute, frowning as he estimated the distance from the bed, all the way up to the coffee maker. His brother was a spider monkey, apparently. "Damn...How long you been up?"

"Long enough to hear you snore loud enough to cause a mild earthquake," mumbles Sam, his arms outstretched towards the mug like a greedy child. "So I think I've earned this." He continues to squirm in his brothers grasp, furious that Dean can so easily separate him from the fruit of his labor.

Dean rolls his eyes, but lowers the mug back to the countertop. Seeing as Sam could barely reach the lip of the cup on his tiptoes, he sat him down the top of the handle, so he could lean over the coffee.

"At least I'm not gassy at three in the morning." Dean countered, rummaging to make himself a cup.

"Thats what you think," grumbles Sam as he leaned over the lip of the using his free hand to scoop coffee into his mouth. Thankfully, the coffee wasn't too hot. Feeling that his handfuls of caffeine weren't quite cutting it, Sam leaned over and tried sipping without the help of his hands.

Much to his dismay, the soft material of his pajamas didnt provide much grip, and Sam found himself plunging head first into the warm cup of coffee.

Dean frowned, looking in the cheap little coffee can and finding only a scattering of grounds on the bottom. Damn. He looked up upon the small splash. He put down the tin and peered into the rippling black raised his head, sputtering. Dean couldn't believe how unlucky Sam was the last couple of days. Almost like the rabbit foot again.

"Aw, c'mon! You used the last of the grounds!" Dean scolded him. He paused, then came over and tried not to smirk as he slipped his fingers through the handle.  
"Looks like you're gonna hafta share." He raised the mug to his lips, tilting it slowly. He knew Sam would never let him hear the end of this. But he just couldn't resist messing with him. Plus, he had to get his caffeine fix...

It seemed as if his whole world tilted as Dean began to gulp down the contents of the mug. Sam sputtered swears at his brother as he was sloshed forward by the waves of coffee, and pressed awkwardly against his brothers face.

He propped his bare feet against Dean's upper lip, so he wouldn't stay glued to his brothers face. The disdainful bitchface that smoldered on Sam's face was fierce, and would have probably seemed menacing had he not been 6 inches tall, soaking wet, stuck in a coffee mug, and wearing moose pajamas.

"Dean you sonofabitch!"

Dean half-coughed on his last swallow of coffee when Sam's tiny feet jabbed into his lip. He pulled away with an amused smile on his face, licking his lips. He duped in two fingers to pinch the back of his shirt and hoist his soaking ass out.

"You make real nasty creamer , Sammy." He said with a half-serious frown, smacking his lips thoughtfully.

"The things I could say to that..." Half laughed Sam, though his face remained twisted in a menacing frown. He shivered as the cold air hit his now soaking body. The change of temperature was drastic. It seemed impossible for his face to remain menacing after being drenched in hot coffee and then exposed to morning air. His body shivered as a chill shot through him, worse yet, his teeth chattered uncontrollably as his body tried to compensate for the change in climate.

Dean smirked more softly as he set the coffee aside and draped Sam into his palm and added a seized hand, cupping him in a fleshy cave of body heat.  
"You can get back at me later." He assured him. His voice was stronger now, less sleepy. Half-drinking your little brother tended to wake ya up.

There was little Sam could see besides his brothers hand and bare chest as Dean walked over to the backpack and one handedly rummaged for a clean shirt of Sam's. He lowered him to the collar of it on the bed and pointed at his soaked shirt. "Lose the clothes, I'll rinse 'em out in the sink."

Too cold to argue, Sam stripped down, tossing the clothes at Dean as he huddled for warmth under his shirt. He could already feel the stickyness of the coffee drying on his skin. Though he's never admit it, Sam longed for the warm from Dean's hand, if only for a little longer. It seemed at his new size, the cold was nippier than ever.

Making a make shift nest out of his shirt, Sam felt his body grow accustomed to the chill. Though he grew more comfortable with the temperature, the unclean feeling the coffee left on his skin left much to be desired.

"Dude. Heat up some water, will ya?"

"Yep." Dean called back, already headed for the sink. He held the doll clothes under the faucet and rubbed at the coffee out of it. No, not doll clothes. Not a doll. Sam. Just Sammy.

The muddy stream floated to the bottom of the drain, slowly turning clear again. He draped the clothes over the edge of the sink, waiting for the water to heat up. It took a while, so he threw on an old band tshirt and his only other pair of jeans. He snuck a glance at the barely visible lump that was his brother on the bed. His eyes darkened this time. Sure it was fun to mess with him, but it made his heart lurch at the same time. No matter what they did, they were stuck in this awkward limbo until Gabriel felt like fixing things. He really felt bad for Sam. He wanted to fix this. But he was next to useless in this case.

"Hey!" Dean's moody scowl brightened a broad grin when caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror for the first time. "My hair's fixed!" He sauntered out with a warm damp washcloth.

Sam stared at Dean from the confines of his makeshift shelter. His brow furrowed. If Dean was back to normal why wasnt he? Was the hair punishment or something, and Dean learned his lesson? Sam sighed. He gets shrunk down to doll size, and Dean get pink hair? Hardly a fair trade...

"Damn," snorted Sam, "I didnt even get a picture."

It's well hidden under humor, but Dean notices the way Sam's shoulders slump. He felt singled out again.  
"I guess that means I'm forgiven. Here." He tossed the wet washcloth to him and kept walking, staying with his back to the Sam bed for the most part to give him a little freedom of privacy.

He was so restless, hardly able to stay still. At least Sam wasn't flinching at any sudden move he made now. Made him sympathize with Godzilla for a while there; it was no wonder he was a little pissy when people went berserk just for taking a step.

Sam covered himself with the blanket size cloth, scrubbing away the stickyness. Thanks to the size of the cloth, it didnt take long. Standing up, Sam stretched. A cool breeze sending a chill up his spine... and sugary smell in the air. Suddenly, he didnt seem all that cold. Looking down, he noticed he was completely dressed in what seemed to be normal attire.

"What? No thank you?"

Gabriel stood leaning against the wall, a sucker in his mouth and a wide grin across his face.

The hair rose on the back of Dean's neck. Then he heard him. He whirled around, getting a wink in reply. His short temper ignited like dynamite. No way. He wasn't letting him get away this time. Dean lunged at him, slamming Gabriel against the wall with his arm crossed over the angel's neck.

That dark humor never left his eyes.  
"Enough screwing around!" He grabbed his collar instead and slammed him into the wall anew,  
Making sure his point was clear. "What do you want from us?"

"How about a little respect for starters?" The angel shook his head, and snapped his fingers, disappearing and reappearing at the other end of the room. "Both of you have a little more learning to do before I zap you chuckleheads back into normalcy."

The angel twirled his sucker between his fingers,

"But if you keep up this Macho-Alpha-Bravado, you and Sammy here might have to switch places."

He almost looks amused by this, and for a moment he calms down enough to send a grim 'I told you so' look to Sam. "Toldja that learning a lesson thing was a load of bull."  
Rolling his eyes back to Gabriel, he took a small step forward, begrudgingly less aggressive in demeanor.  
"You know what? Fine!" Dean said, throwing his arms up in a form of surrender. A small part of him was really hoping Gabriel wouldn't find a way to bring up the coffee incident that he undoubtedly had been observing.

Gabriel arched an eyebrow high, tilting his head at Dean curiosly.  
"Awhh, the ole' self-sacrifice play. Classic, but a bit of a re-run."

A wave of guilt washed over Sam. He's silently wished he could trade places with Dean... That Dean was the one who'd been shrunken in the first place, and now here his brother was, offering to switch places. Worse yet, Sam couldnt find the will to speak up. He wanted Dean to swap with him. Silently, he was begging for Gabriel to do it.

A smirk curled up on the tricksters lips, as if he's heard the thought.

"Tell you what," says Gabriel, opening his arms and walking forward to Dean, "Sammy here still has some learning to do, so I'm giving him 24 hours to get his shit together and figure this out, or you'll lose your position as the 'big bother,' got it?"

Sam face curled up in anger, 'Dammit.' Gabriel shrugged, and flashed an "I'm sorry, but not really" smile at Sam, demonstrating that he had most certainly been listening in on Sam's thoughts. He could feel his ears heating in embarrassment.

Dean's glower momentarily slides to Sam as Gabriel looks at him. It was the most frustrating thing in the world to be standing to a source of nearly unlimited power; the one responsible for this mess in the first place... And yet, Sam was still six inches. And now Dean was looking down a short tunnel to the same end.

Dean's lips are a thin line as he stares Gabriel down. He knew how this worked. They had to play the game the way he wanted. Which meant they had some work todo after all.

"Alright," He finally resigns, stepping closer to Sam, a living barrier between him and the AWOL arch angel. "But leave my hair outta this."

"Oh don't tempt me Dean-o," laughed Gabriel, twirling his finger. As he did so Dean's hair swapped colors at lightning speed, from blond to red, to green, to blue, pink, orange, so fast it was disorienting for Sam to watch. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the rave on Dean's hair ceases.

"You're off duty for the day. So go out, have fun, figure out the all important lesson that I've layed out for you, relax, that sorta thing."

As soon as the candy found its way back into the angel'a mouth, he was gone once again, with an envelope left in his place.

Dean ran both hands through his short hair possesively in the newfound stillness of the room. He didn't like being played around with like some angel's putty. He stopped over and picked up the envelope. There wasn't any joke embedded in the outside; it was completely blank. Sealed, though.

"Have fun... Right." He muttered, tearing it open as he sat next to Sam. "I think id rather get stabbed..." He pulled out the paper and held it where Sam could see it too.

"Tourist sites?" snorted Sam, eyes the map that Dean pulled from the envelop,  
"Really?"

The map had a clear route highlighted, with circled around every tourist trap along the way. Sam sighed. This was going to be a long 24 hours.

"Oh hell no." Dean's frown quickly deepens. "Broadway?" He sends the map a despairing look before rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was a known fact that Dean Winchster and musicals had never been on good terms. Never would be, if he had it his way. Mentaly deciding to put that one off as long as possible, Dean rests a hand next to his brother. "We better get cracking."

Sam smirks at Dean's reaction. This would be torment for him. Sam knew he's take sick amusement in Dean's dislike. Though, despite the situation Sam was on could nine. No matter what, he's be back to himself within 24 hours. He felt a pang of guilt knowing that if he didn't succeed in learning what every it was the trickster was trying to teach them, his brother would become travel sized, but that only meant they had no room for error.

Sam hopped onto Dean's hand, and scrambled up Dean's arm until he was posted on his brother's shoulder.

"You're just excited about watching me squirm during Hairgel.. Hairspray.. Whatever..." Dean accused. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and slid his arms into a dark jacket. He checks for a travel bag of salt, holy water flask, his silver pocket knife, and favorite handgun- essentials to have on his person at all times, no matter the occasion. In under a a minute, the impala's engine turns over and they're on their way to New York City.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam's energy seems to dissipate with the dull roar of the engine. Pressing himself close against Dean's neck not only for support, but for the overwhelming heat that radiated off of him, Sam started to drift back to the collar of the jacket, Sam pulled it over him, wrapping himself in the comforting body heat of his brother. He knew Dean would never let him forget this, but his sleepless night was catching up on him with vigor, and for now, he could careless what Dean thought.

The skyline grew from a distant view to a looming, bustling city. New York City. It made a person feel important and insignificant at the same time. One thing he wouldn't miss was the traffic. "I mean, we haven't been here since that vampire outbreak in the 90's. Dad called in a favor with a marine buddy of his.. Got to ride in a helicopter into the city. Do you even remember that case? You were only... five or so.."

Sam ignored him. Peeved, Dean gave his shoulder a little shrug to get his attention. "Sam."  
Sam slumped a little down against his neck. No way... Was he napping?

The car was at a standstill anyway in the stop and go traffic, so Dean reached up and gingerly let Sam slide into his palm. As he held him out before him, Dean's face softened. It had been a long time since Sam was like this with him. He looked at his sleeping face, wishing Sam could be that peaceful more often. Dean tilted his hand and gently tilted his little brother into the breast pocket of his shirt. The kid deserved to rest with all the crap he was going through.

For the first time in quite a long time, Sam slept peacefully. Hazy memories boiled to the surface of Sam's subconscious. Good days Dean watched over him, sneaking him into movies, or stealing good snacks from the corner store. He remembered the smiles, and laughter, and the smell of... God what was that smell? Sam shifted within the fabric confines, trying to gain his bearings. Where was he? and why did it smell like a mixture of musk, pie, and something godawful that he couldnt identify.

Opening his eyes did nothing to clarify the situation. Darkness welled around him, suffocating a brief moment he began to panic, but a low thudding noise the drummed beside him seemed to calm him down... reassure him.

"Dean?" Groaned Sam, his voice sleepy, and a little hoarse.

"Oh come on!" Dean yelled. The little voice form his pocket went unheard. He had gotten stuck at yet another red light. "Asshole." He glared at the car making it through to the next lane. While some may dub him an aggressive driver, Dean preferred the term "efficient". He liked to get where he was going without any unnecessary delay or detours, if at all possible. And he had zero tolerance for those idiots who were too busy texting to go on a green light. He was scanning the sides of the street feverishly for a place to park. Walking would be infinitely faster than this, and easier on his blood pressure.

He spotted a bank to the left with a row of empty spaces in its lot, and turned left as soon as the light turned green. He parked in a spot marked "Customers Only" and got out of the car. The city air was polluted, but the morning breeze still felt amazing on his face. Dean locked up the impala, dropped the keys in his pocket and started down the sidewalk.

Something hard crashed top of Sam. Swearing, he sent a swift kick to Dean's chest. That idiot had dropped the keys on him! Rubbing his head, Sam hoisted himself upwards, now very awake and more than a little pissed off. Awkwardly dangling from the pocket Sam yelled up at Dean.

"HEY! Goliath! Pay attention!"

Dean looked down sharply, his steps coming to a sudden halt wen he saw a flash of Sam out of the pocket and dangling from under the flap of his jacket.  
"Dammit." Glancing around for any nosy pedestrians, Dean reached under, grabbed Sam, and stuffed him back into the pocket gruffly. "Would it kill you to stay put once in your life?"  
He felt Sam immediately struggle to escape again. Beyond feeling friggin weird, it was a stupid risk in Dean's eyes. Annoyed, he pushed his head down again with a single finger. "Calm your tits already," he said under his breath as he began walking once more. "At least lemme find a Starbucks or something before you take a sidewalk dive."

No one seemed to pay much mind that he was talking to himself. Then again, NYC had its fair share of nuts who talk to themselves.

Annoyed by Dean's handling fingers, Sam slumps to the bottom of the pocket. Like a pouting kid, Sam crosses his arms and glares into the darkness, no longer soothed by the rocking from Dean's steps, or the heavy drum of his brothers heart. Now it seemed obnoxious. Picking up the keys with both hands, Sam rams the the key against his brothers chest, in a fit of annoyed vengeance.

Dean yelps loudly in pain, glaring down in Sam's direction.

"Are you alright, honey?" An kindly-looking african-american woman carrying thrift store and grocery bags had stopped amongst the bustling sidewalk to give Dean a rather alarmed look. Dean realized how this looked; his hand clasped over his heart, the sudden pain...  
"Huh- Oh yeah, I'm.. I'm good." He flashed her a charming smile and followed up with, "Just got a-" he cleared his throat loudly and patted Sam's general position twice. "-bug in my throat or sumthing."

"Son of a bitch," mumbled Sam, as he was roughly shoved against Dean's chest with each pat. It was made quite clear that it'd be a good idea not to try anything else until he was freed from the pocket. Though, that still didn't stop him from sending an elbow to Dean's chest.

Sulking in the inky darkness of the pocket, Sam ruminated over the patheticness of his situation. His pride seemed to have imploded. He was stuck in a pocket for God's sake, and worse yet, the pocket reeked. Sam made a mental note to force Dean to do laundry more often after this whole ordeal was silenced.

Dean could feel Sam's body sliding around against him, thump with every other step. He didn't envy his little brother's position, but what else could he do? He refused to risk Sam further in this state. Sam was gong to be safe, whether he liked it or not.

The streets were busy, even at this early hour. It took a bit of navigating, but his street sense led him eventually to a little coffee street. Only problem was, it was across a four-lane street. He started weaving in between cars,'but the light turned green halfway, and he had to jog the rest of the way. Okay. Find a bathroom, talk to Sammy, figure out where to go first.

Dean's rapid changing of direction jostled Sam about, sending him flying around in the pocket. The darkness made him woozy. It was bad enough the he was being swung around like a rag doll, but the lack of vision added to the sickening feeling that was building up in his stomach. Sam gagged. The smell wasnt helping either. Did the pocket seem smaller? The air felt stagnant. Nothing was fresh. Oh God, he couldn't breath. Was the pocket always this tight?! Sam gagged again. Dry heaving. Had he ate any breakfast this morning, he certainly would have lost it by now.

"Dean..." gurgled Sam, his voice barely audible to himself, let alone Dean. He slammed his fist against his brother's chest a few times, hoping to God he's stop running about.

He pressed a hand over the pocket again, but this time in a gentle manner, supporting him.  
"Sorry, Sammy." He murmured, dodging people to make it to the men's room.

Dena locked himself in the single-person bathroom and faced the mirror. He was almost afraid of what he would pull out of the pocket. He reached is couple fingers in carefully and felt tinier arms latch on weakly.

"Hey, talk to me." He prompted, alarmed. Sam was all pale and shaky.

Sam held out a hand to silence Dean. His brain was still swirling wildly, like his senses had been caught in a tornado. His head pounded as it searched desperatly for something to focus on... for a way to set Sam's internal equalibrium back in track. It found nothing. Size difference seemed to take another blow at Sam's mind. God everthing was so huge! He felt light headed. Sucking in a sharp breath of stale bathroom air, Sam gagged. Holding onto Dean's thumb for support, he looked up at his brother with watery eyes and grimaced.

"Let's NEVER do that again."

A guilt wave to end all guilt waves crashed upon Dean.

"Oh man..." He breathed. He couldn't even walk around outside without making Sammy feel like crap. This sucked majorly, in pretty much every way. He brought his brother back to his chest in an enveloping, but very gentle hug. He rubbed Sam's back with knuckles of his other hand as he frowned deeply. "We gotta figure out a better place to put you." He let his own words sink in, and let out a dark, humorless chuckle. "Man, this is so screwy.."

Sam laughed dully into Dean's chest,

"I thought you said no chick flick moments?" As Dean pulled out of the hug Sam sighed, and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. The look of concern that was magnified by his brothers gigantic eyes was more than over whelming.

"I'm fine Dean," laughed Sam, trying to lighten the mood and make himself seem less fragile, "Just... no more running." Sam paused, then wrinkled his nose,

"And seriously... wash your clothes more."

"Dude! I just washed these a couple weeks ago! You've just got a freakishly sensitive nose."

Apart from a flicker of a smirk, Dean pretty much ignored the chick flick comment, sticking to the rule that if they didn't talk about it, it didn't happen. He looked away at a spot on the tile wall and let out a silent frustrated breath.

"What am I supposed to do? I put you on the ground, you're dead. You get spotted, you become a fun-sized target for lucifer- not to mention the truckload of angels, demons, and cops who would love to gank our asses." He gave Sam a severe look, not driven by anger at Sam, but rather the difficulty of the situation. "Now, I know my pocket is a far cry from the hilton honeymoon suite..." He faced the mirror, scanning his own appearance. His jacket collar was pretty high, especially with the denim shirt layered underneath.

Grimacing, Sam nodded,

"I said its fine Dean. I'll deal. It's less than 24 hours," Sam paused, not wanting to bring up that they still hadnt figured out the tricksters puzzle, "and even though you're like a carnival ride from Hell," he shot Dean a half playful, half serious glare, "I'm sure I can stick it out."

Sam stood on shaking legs, stretching his stiff body. They really should get moving.

"So what's our first stop anyways?"

"Uh.." Dean set him down on the edge of the sink so he could pull out the folded map from his jeans pocket. It was a little wrinkled, but he smoothed it out best he could and hovered a hand over it, locating their approximate position. "The closest mark to hit is this art museum." He tapped the metropolitan Museum of art, unaware of its glorious reputation.

Standing on his toes, Sam grabbed at the map, more than thrilled to see the destination. It was one of the places he's always wanted to visit but never had the opportunity. Sam was close to bouncing with excitement, until he realized he's be visiting the museum from the confines of a pocket.

"Figures the one time I get to go, I wont actually see anything..." Sam paused, an idea forming in his head. "You think Gabriel might have his a clue there?"

Dean shrugged. "Best lead we got." He folded up the map and tucked it in his pocket, then did much the same with his little brother. He lifted him up to his face so they could talk eye to eye, if only for a brief moment. He narrowed his eyes, studying Sam for any lingering motion sickness. When all he got was a severely uncomfortable expression, he lowered him to his outer jacket pocket and tilted him inside. While he was still getting situated within, dean held the upper flap open to peer down at him. It was just so weird to see!

Sam couldnt stand how Dean constantly observed him. He just wanted to be normal again, or as close to normal as this messed up life would let him get. There was just something about those big green eyes peering down at him with concern and curiosity that infuriated him.

"You done Dean?" snapped Sam, the question coming out much harsher than intended.

Dean's tentative smile widens, followed by a loud (to Sam's ears) chuckle. It was adorable when Sam got all pissy. He unlocks the door and heads back out into the main part of the coffee shop to order some type of fruit Danish and a small coffee. He paid with cash, knowing this type of place could afford the resources to track a credit card trail should the cops come knocking. He passed a chunk of Danish down to Sam, waiting until he feltit tugged out of his grasp before pulling his hand away. The rest he ate in a few big bites, ambling along the crowded sidewalk.

The sounds of Dean eating above him unnerved Sam. The noises his brother made at his regular height were bad enough, but the added volume, and closeness to his brother made him squirm.

Sam ate the bit of Danish hesitently, his appetite dulled by his previous motion sickness, the pocket stench, and mostly his brother's sound effects. He swore he could hear Dean's stomach gurgle.

Though, after his first bite of the pastery, he soon forgot all of his qualms. It was as if the taste was magnified along with everything else. Scarfing it down without a moments thought, Sam smiled to himself. Less than 24 hours on the clock, he might as well put aside his fears, and distaste, and try to take advantage of what he could.

Dean popped a shiny red and white peppermint in his mouth, tucking it to one side of his cheek with his tongue. They had a bowl of them on the desk at the lobby- and for $25 bucks entry per person, he felt he deserved a few. He did an overall glance of the interior and of the informational pamphlet he'd been given. But so far nothing stuck out to him as odd. Apart from the fact that some of this stuff was actually considered art.  
"You're kidding me right?" He said not so quietly to Sam, coming to stop in front of a Jackson Pollock. "What did he do, puke paint on the canvas?"

Sam snickered, imagining Deans face twisted in confusion and disgust. Though, he wished he could see. Raising himself up just enough that his head was over the pocket top, Sam risked a glance at the canvas.

Dean felt the tiny body shift, and immediately looked down. He could barely even see the top of Sammy's head from his point of view. At least the kid was being cautious.  
"See what I mean? Stupid." He gestured further, hoping to get Sam's opinion on this. Instead, he got someone else's.

"Pollock was a visionary," a bold female voice piped up to his left. Dean stiffened, instinctively hiding the pamphlet high enough to block Sam from view. He turned just his head to see a very pretty strawberry blonde standing next to him. But...She looked rather peeved at him. Not good. "He paved the way for modern art as we know it. It's ignorant jerks like you who make starving artists a reality."  
"Well," Unable to resist, he took a step closer to her and flashed a cocky smile. "Educate me."

Sam stiffled a laugh. This would be good. He could practically feel Dean's discomfort as it crawled under his brother's skin.

She pursed her lips, deciding whether he was worth the trouble. Turning back to the painting, she gestured at it.  
"His method was unique. A bold take on abstract expressionism. Shame he wasn't recognized till after his death, really."  
Dean grunted his agreement for how screwy death was. "Yeah, that sounds about right.."

She turned to face Dean again, and gave him the first real okce over. She arched an eyebrow, the stepped a little closer. "And he was very passionate about his work."  
"Mm, really?" Dean feigned interest. "I can see that I mean, if really..." He made a few gesture to mimic the motion of the paint. ", uh, shows.."  
She laughed quietly, seeming to forgive his ignorance for have such a nice smile.  
"Don't take this the wrong way but You don't seem like the 'museum type' to me."  
"I'm not."  
She gave him an expectant look, so he formulated an explanation. "I'm., kinda on this scavenger hunt. It's stupid."

"Oh. Well.. Can I help? I know this place pretty well." She offered.

Dean was ready to turn her down, then stopped himself.

"You got anything on angels around here?"

Sam groaned from the pocket, hating the fact he's have to sit tight while the lady guided Dean around, though he was grateful, as he didnt have much faith in Dean finding any hidden clues in a museum.

Pretty or not, the girl ended up being real annoying fast. Dean managed to shake her, and continued exploring on his own. Wandering into a room fills with paintings of naked women, Dean decided maybe art could be his thing after all.

"Hey feel free to keep an eye out. I have no idea what I'm looking for here." Dean bowed his head to whisper to Sam.

Finally able to steal a breath of fresh air from the confines of the pocket, Sam shimmied until he had both arms free, along with his head and shoulders.

"I'm not to sure I know what to look for either." Groaned Sam, looking around the vast, and wildly decorated room. Even if they found a clue, how would they know it was a clue?Or what if there weren't any clues, or what if- his thoughts were interrupted by a striking painting. Two beautiful naked women, standing before an incredibly detailed background of a forest, and magnificent waterfall.

The painting in itself was incredible, but that was no what made it so striking. What drew Sam's attention was the figure who the two woman clung to.

Gabriel.

Even clad in bronze armor, it was unmistakably him. The cocky smile, the mischievous eyes, he even sported a curly mustache. Though, it was the wings that sprung from his back that seemed to chill Sam to the very core. They were dealing with a powerful being, and seeing those wings seemed to remind him of that.

"Dean," shouted Sam, "Look!"

Dean followed Sam's insistent gaze. It didn't take him long to see what he was worked up about. He snorted softly, eyeing the plaque below that read 'Saint Gabriel Triumphs'  
"Saint my ass.." He grumbled, staring warily at the paiting, half-expecting it to wink at him.

"Son of a bitch." Another painting caught his eye across the room, and he made a beeline for it. It seemed Gabriel was having a creative venting session today. The plaque below this one read 'Michael vs lucifer'. It showed just that; Michael appeared to have the upper hand in casting the dark-winged angel froth heavens, but Dean noticed a shar and disturbingly accurate archangel blade grasped by lucifer. But the part the made his mouth go dry was that it was them; the faces and physique of the angels were repaited to resemble Sam and Dean. It was very disturbing. Dean checked the informational pamphlet- the original version was stil printed.

"Not exactly subtle.."

"Oh man..." Sam groaned, his stomach feeling similar to kneaded dough. Leaning over farther out, he called up to Dean, "Is there one of those info pedestals for either of the paintings?"

Happy for the distraction of Sam with demon wings, Dean unfolded the pamphlet, scanning the brief historical paragraphs.  
"They were both painted by the same guy- Ricardo Mendez."

Sam huffed. That hardly seemed like a good clue to him. Though maybe he just wasnt seeing the big picture. Maybe if they did a search on the artist... Sam sighed shaking his head. Research wasnt what was needed. He needed to find a meaning. It wasn't something he could put into a search engine... it was a lesson. This was all on him, and he had no idea if he would be able do it.

"I'm at a loss Dean," sighed Sam, hating to admit it, "you got any ideas?"

"I don't know." said Dean. He hated saying it, knowing that even now, in adulthood, Sam the knowitall still looked to his big brother for answers. And Dean didn't have any this time.

Honestly, he was having a hard time believing there was a lesson in all this and the trickster wasn't just leading them on a wild goose chase to nowhere. Dean tilted his head all the way to his chest to see Sam's little head and shoulders peeking out from under the pocket flap.

"We've got the map, so we'll just run through the landmarks. Bound to hit gold sometime." He turned away from the altered painting and strode purposefully back the way he came.

With a sigh, Sam slid back in the pocket. He half expected the meddling Angel to step out of the painting, though he had no such luck. Curling up in the bottom of the pocket, Sam felt guilt catch up on him. If he couldnt figure this out, Dean would be in his position. The fact that he felt relief and comfort in the thought troubled him, more so, it disgusted him.

"Well," called out Sam from the pocket, his voice cracking, "where to next?"

Dean stood the the side in the lobby, ignoring the other art-loving tourists filing in and out of the museum. There was a rustling amongst the jacket, followed by the crinkling of paper outside. "Huh. Central Park." Dean's voice rang out overhead, laced with a undertone of humor. Too bad they couldn't actually relax. It was like the vacation they never got to take. Only dean knew this time tomorrow he would be the one riding around in a pocket if they didn't figure this out. He folded up the map into his jeans pocket and headed back outside. Green eyes narrowed, squinting in the newfound sunlight.

"Hey, maybe you can get that tan you always wanted." Dean chuckled at his own jab. "I bet you would fit on one of those little mirror things.."

Sam gave Dean a sharp jab, hoping he would feel it though the jacket. Though, even in the midst of all the anarchy, he couldn't help but smile at his brother's attempt at lightening the mood. He had to figure this out. For Dean.

Popping his head and chest out of the pocket, Sam leaned back so he could see his brothers face as he addressed him.

"How far off is that?"

A tiny poke hit him, making him smile more. More movement shifted against the swinging pocket, so he looked down.  
"Hm?" Dean thought at first Sam was actually joking back with him. But he'd recognize that look anywhere: Back to business. "Oh, I'm not walking there. It's 15 blocks from here!" He looked back at where he was going to walk around someone texting and walking, along with a couple of girlfriends walking and talking. A subway stairwell was up ahead on the left. As he boarded the crowded escalator, he dared to continue talking to his tiny passenger in public.

"Remember that year you were obsessed with trains? Even lifted that book from the Missouri library.. What was it called? Trains and planes? Something cutesy like that."

Sam's face reddened a bit. The fact Dean remembered that was more than he could take. He forced a smile onto his face, but the guilt that boiled and bubbled behind it. He had to stop Dean from switching places with him. It was all on him.

Pushing the tangled emotions deep down, turned his gaze skywards to his behemoth of a brother, he stared down at him with concern in his eyes.

"We're taking a train?" Sam asked, unable to hide the undertones of curiosity.

"Well, the subway." He clarified. "No way we'd get everywhere on the list in this traffic."

He hated how crowded it was. He felt like someone or another was constantly touching him. A bag was bumping his back, a businesswoman brushing past his sleeve, and one particularly overweight man who nearly barreled right into him- and then had the nerve to give HIM a dirty look!  
"Asshole." Dean muttered, finally making his way to one of the ticketing booths. He purchased a one day pass with a credit card under the name of Ricardo Muñez. More waiting, and then he was sitting in a nice hard plastic seat on the next stop. He studied the map painted on the opposite wall as the subway lurched into motion.  
"Alright 81st street. That's our stop." He murmured down to Sam. "..Hope you're having fun in there." He added, with a tone that suggested apology for what was undoubtedly an incredibly boring trip.

In the sealed car, it was a bit quieter. Most people avoided eye contact, looking rather despondent or too involved in their own business to spare him much attention. The ride was bumpy, noisy, and dean felt like he was exposed to at least three mild infractions just breathing the stale air. Made him miss his Baby. He'd be glad when they could put this all behind them and go back to cruising state to state.

Sam sat in the darkness of the pocket, bored and nervous at the same time. Subway trains had seemed a lot cooler when he was 10. He tried to make himself smaller than he already was by curling up in the pocket, flinching every time someone bumped into his brother.

Sam wished he could at least see the people coming, the constant flinching at any movement was becoming more annoying that nerve wracking. He wished he could talk to Dean, instead of being stuck in silence, riding in a rank smelling pocket. Every once and a while he would open the flap on the pocket, taking in the fresh ( or at least fresher) air. God, Dean really needed to wash this.

As the subway train lurched forward and came to a halt, he heard the muffled speaker mumble their stop. He felt his whole world lurch and sway as Dean shambled out of the subway. Sam had to marvel at the weirdness of this whole situation. The sensations, the smells, the fact he was being carried around in his brothers pocket... He found himself counting down the hours until it was over.

Only 18 hours left.


	7. Chapter 7

The stairs were long. Crowded again- just terrific. As much as he appreciated the big city, he was also a big proponent if personal space. Something neither of them were getting much of today. Dean had stopped mentally cringing every time the little lump that was Sam's body bumped against his chest. There was no point in beating himself up over that; it couldn't be helped. He just had to push through it and get this over with.

Once again, the sun made its point clear by temporarily blinding him when he surfaced to the sidewalk again. He took a nice deep breath of exhaust fumes, scanning the area to gather his bearings. The buildings cast a nice shade in certain areas, and he hoped Sam got a look at the place. Must've looked even crazier big to him.

Central Park was huge, as it turned out. Dean took a brief moment of reverence to soak it in, to think of how many movies had filmed maybe in this very spot. Pretty awesome.  
"Heh. Bet I'm standing in the same spot as Godzilla. From the crappy 90's one... Sammy?" It occurred to him that the lump in his pocket had been pretty still, and he pulled open the flap to check inside if Sam had fallen asleep.

Having lightly dozed off, Sam cringed and shielded his eyes from the sharp glare of the sun.

"Ugh, knock first?" grumbled Sam, as he tried to adjust to the bright light. Standing up shakily in the pocket, stretched, happy to have finally stopped swinging while Dean walked. After a brief yawn, Sam glanced up at the enormous eyes that stared down at him,

"I think your nasty pocket stench knocked me out."

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. It couldn't possibly be that bad...  
Though Sam couldn't see his whole expression clearly, he didn't need to; this silence was the particular one when Dean was wrestling with himself over something.  
His thoughts were interrupted by a heavenly smell. He looked around for the source and foundit to be an apple funnel cake stand. Dean smiled. On cue, his stomach rumbled in agreement. The flap closed again.

Ten minutes later, funnel-cake in hand, Dean surveyed his surroundings, checking for prying eyes. The nearest people was a dad and son playing frisbee a ways away. Nothing to worry about if he made it quick. He sat down behind a wide tree.

"C'mere," he muttered, reaching into the pocket. He felt Sam stiffen, and tried to bury the immediate guilt from scaring him.

Instinctively, upon seeing the fingers bearing down upon him, Sam dove into the corner of the pocket. He felt the thick fingers wrap around his waist. The feeling gnawed at his instincts. The only clear thoughts that pressed on his mind seemed to be 'let go.' Naturally, Sam kicked and figited, but the spasm seemed to be shortlived.

Gathering himself on the palm of his brothers hand, he straightened his shirt and shot an embarrassed glare at Dean,

"A little warning would be nice..."

"Sorry." His lips became a thin line, eyes darted up and down Sam'a short length with a pity. It was short-lived. "Anyway.. Figured you could give me a hand with this, stretch your legs a little." he held up the fresh confection, smiling at Sam like he should be equally pleased by this presentation. Then he lowered both plate and brother to the leaf-strewn lawn. It was unexpectedly nervewrackng to have Sam out of his grasp. But he was right thre... What could happen?

As much as Sam tried to prove he was more than capable at this size, he found himself second guessing that notion as he was placed away from Dean. He really needed his brother, and the realization not only embarrassed him, but infuriated him as well. His eyes stayed glued to the man mountain that loomed over him. Dean was a giant. No... Sam looked at his shoes. It wasnt Dean who was a giant. He was an ant.

Sam shook his head. No, he couldnt think like that now. Dean needed him. He wasnt about to let Dean go through the same Hell that he was facing. He fought the urge to run back to Dean's hand, even though he hated being grabbed, it seemed so much safer than standing in the open.

Deep breath. Sam tried to calm down. He'd face innumerable monsters... he could do this. Turning his attention to the snack that Dean had scored for the both of them, Sam let a smile slid across his lips. While the health nut inside him begged for a salad, Sam couldnt help but be tempted by the enormous pastry. Something about the small, and hugeness of it dashed all his desires for his so called "rabbits food."

He stepped onto the plate, and ripped himself a piece of the ambrosia smelling morsel and began to devouring it, making sure to shoot a glare at Dean as his older brother eye him in a "he's so cute" way. God he missed looking down at the top of his brothers head.

Sam took a step and tumbled into sticky sugary mess, groaning as he peeled himself away from the tasty meal. He could hear Dean's rumbling laughter above him. Though, the laughter stopped suddenly. He looked up to see Dean's face pale, staring at something behind him. A rush of hot air hit Sam's back. He spun around and came face to nose with a dog. A very big dog. A great Dane? Sam couldn't tell at this angle.

He watched as the mouth opened before him, revealing its huge white death and long pink tongue...

_Shit!, _Dean thought. The dog looked friendly enough, but it wasn't wearing a collar. Dean happened to know that Sam had a a soft spot for dogs. Probably because Dad never let them have one growing up. But in this particular case, nothing could be further from the truth.

The dog's wet nose quivered as it observed the unusually mixture of person and pastry.

"Don't you _dare_." Dean growled, directed at the dog.

He was very slowly readying to lunge, but avoided sudden movements, lest the stray grab Sam and make a run for it. The pink tongue lapped out tentatively against Sam's stomach, then came back to lick most of the powder off his front. The dog tilted its head, revealing stained teeth. In a sudden eruption of movement, two arms shot out, strong hands muzzling the dog's jaw shut. Dean had to sidesteps to keep his grip as the dog squirmed, but he managed to reach behind him for a scrap of the cake and toss it at least 10 yards away in the opposite direction. It was distracted enough to follow the scent, running off.  
"Nice try, bitch."

He immediately turned to look down at Sam and perform his usual "are you okay?" Test. He came back over and crouched down, hovering a hand near him with eyes watching him closely.  
"Shit that was close ... You alright?"

Sam released a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to play back what had happen.

"That was," Sam paused to wipe of the lingering string for drool, "close."

"I'll say." Snickered a voice coming from beside Dean. The dog sat beside Dean, seeming to wear a grin over its face. Sam eyes widened in pure disbelief.

"What can I say," laughed the dog, sporting the all to familiar voice of Gabriel, "I've got a thing for sweets."

"Oh, that's just sick." Dean exclaimed, turning pink in the ears. The knowledge that Gabriel had just licked is own brother made HIM feel dirty, just thinking about it. He glanced down at Sammy, sharing a look.  
"You're kinkier than I gave you credit for."

"Like I'm gonna let you have all the fun," Gabriel retorted.

"I'm not having fun! I know this is all a game to you arch-angels but-"

The dog growled lowly. "Don't act like you know me hotshot." He returned his attention back to Sam and tilted his head curiously.

Sam stood staring at the two, frozen in his place. He didnt like being in the ground between two bickering giants.

"What about you Sam," cooed Gabriel, he's hears folding in a questioning manner, "You having fun yet?"

Sam snorted, at a complete loss for what to say. Did an archangel really just lick him? Gross.

"Can it, Gabriel," snapped Sam, "before you get muzzled." The dog-angel snorted, blasting Sam with stale hot air. He lowered his body until he was lying down, eye level to Sam. Strangely enough, Sam appreciated the gesture. Gabriel's voice took a more serious undertone as he spoke,

"Figure it out Sammy?" he asked, his eyes mischievous still, but where there undertones of concern. "You're running out of time."

It's painfully obvious than neither of the hunters have a clue what Gabriel was getting at in all this. It was hard to see the intricacies in Sam's face even from a crouched position.

"We saw the paintings." Dean interjected. "Are you throwing the whole 'play your roles' shpeel at us again?"  
"You're getting warmer." The dog with Gabriel's voice gave a whiny yawn. "But this one hits a little closer to home."  
Dean sat down, giving his calves a break. The moment his butt was on the ground, the dog-angel sprang up, grabbed the back of Sam's shirt, and made a break for it. Dean could hardly believe his eyes. He scrambled back to his feet, bolting after him.

"GABRIEL! You son of a BITCH!"

A pair of mothers pushing their children in stroller shot his back a dirty look. A man drawing a caricature of a young lady paused to watch the guy with anger management issues chase a dog through an open field.  
"Excuse me," Dean muttered sheepishly as he weaves between hot sunbathers in bikinis.

Sam couldn't help but scream as he was dangled this way and that, flying around like a limp rag doll. The adrenaline seemed to bypass the motion sickness somewhat, but his equalibrium spun wildly, and Sam was totally unaware of which way was up, and which was down.

Gabriel's swift canine strides soon distanced the captive Sam from his frantic brother.

"What the Hell Gabriel?!" shouted Sam shakily, trying not to gag on his own words.

Gabriel would have replied with a smirk, but his mouth was full.

Dean was running as fast as he could. He was ready to pull a gun on him, but there was no clear shot. Besides, he might hit Sam. Ignoring his lungs begging for more oxygen, he pressed on.

Over a wide, sunny bridge over the River, Gabriel slowed to a trot.

"Sam!" His voice was less distant, but a little out of breath. The dog darted to the side, going along the slope to under the bridge. Dean followed, closely now. But when he got there, they were no where in sight. He choked down a panicked feeling. What? Did he just drop him and run? What gives? They couldn't have just disa- well, considering Gabriel in the equation, yes they could. "What the hell?" He muttered, trying to remain calm as he kept his eyes forward, searching intently for the dog holding his brother captive.

A blinding flash of light had surrounded the pair, and in the time it would take to blink, Sam was sitting in the palm of the now human archangel. His head swivled wildly as he tried to get his bearings, but everything seemed bright, blurry and out of focus.

"Where are we?"

The angel smiled,  
"Thats not important." His words came out soft and quiet, despite his size. While Sam appreciated the gesture, he was not at all happy with the gigantic angel.

"WH-"

"We need to talk." interrupted the angel, "Times ticking... and not just on my little game."

When Sam remained quiet, he went on. "You know there's a price on both your heads. Dead or alive, doesn't matter, they'll just bring you back."

That dick bag Zacariah came to mind, as well as his cohorts in the heavenly host. "You really think you've got your sealegs to rebel, Sam?"

"If thats what it takes..." mumbled Sam, wishing he sounded more sure of himself. The angel scoffed, looming in over him, forcing him to feel even smaller.

"You don't realize how important all this is..."

Unsure of how to respond to the sudden seriousness in the angel's tone, Sam remains quiet again, watching the angel study him. Gabriel sighed.

"If you can't figure out yourself, how do you think you'll be able to handle anything else, Sam?"

Gabriel tilted his hand a little, watching Sam predictably react in order to keep his balance.

"Listen, kiddo. I've been at this a long time. This whole apocolypse thing isn't gonna jus go away. You think I'm the only one who knows how to screw with you?" He raised his eyebrows almost sternly at the shrunken hunter. "But hey, whatever, right? Keep pretending you're in charge, maybe everything will work out."

Sam ran a hand through his hair and fell roughly to a sitting position. This whole ordeal seemed to be rooted more deeply than the initial trickster dickery he'd presumed it to be.

"Well what am I supposed to do?" he could feel his barriers crumble. Something about the angel seemed only sincere. Maybe it was the contrast between his normal nature, towards the serious air he'd taken.. but Sam could feel a sliver of trust starting to form.

With his head in his hands, he could feel the gigantic eyes as they bore into him.

"Listen here, Moose. This game? It for you to find the answers. Not me." Sam felt the angel's thumb as he rubbed it against his back. Although he still flinched, he was oddly comforted by the gesture. The angel was an annoying pest at best, but he was still on their side.

"Next time I stop in I want some answers," whispered the angel, his voice slowly regaining its sass, "Cause you've got just under 15 hours."

The image of Gabriel's face gradually faded to white again. Then he was back in Central Park, albeit at a much lower vantage point.

Dulled earthquakes hit the ground one after the other.  
"Dammit Sammy." Dean mumbled despairingly. "You can't just disappear on me... Can't.."

_Failure. My fault..._  
A horrible barrage of self-depreciating thoughts whirled around and around inside Dean's head. He could practically hear his father berating him on top of his own thoughts: 'you had one job to do, Dean- take care of Sammy. Most important. All it takes is one mistake... Dammit, Why didn't you listen to me?'

"Dean! Over here!" shouted Sam, more than a little flustered that he's brother couldn't find him. When his shouts seemed to go unnoticed, Sam began to march towards his titanic brother.

"DEAN!"

His brother was right there, and Sam bet that if he'd stop muttering to himself, he's probably have heard him. Sam watched Dean's face as he jogged after his brother, who was frantically scowering the grass looking for him. Thats when Sam saw it. The panic. It bleed from Dean. His eyes were wide, filled with a wildness that Sam had never seen before. It was terrifying to watch.

"Dean! I'm right here!" He shouted, waving his hands. Again, nothing. If he would calm down long enough to compose himself... No, Sam was done waiting around. This frantic Dean was not something that he wanted to get used to seeing.

Finally catching up to his older brother, Sam pulled on his brothers pant leg,

"Dean!"

Dean watched his steps carefully as he treaded through the grass, on a search that was becoming increasingly hopeless. He took another step and suddenly little Sam was in view, clinging hard to the denim around his ankle.

"Sam!" Dean gasped, eyes bugging out. He bent down to pluck his little brother off of his jeans. He barely took one good look at him to make sure it was really him before he hugged him gently, to his neck and shoulder. right now, he didn't even care how awkward it was. He was just overwhelmed by relief. He pulled away and held Sam out, giving him a little space.

"The angel's a speedy sonnovabitch.." He said, his darkened guilty gaze silently apologizing for not being able to catch him. "He didn't do anything Pervy to you, did he?"

Sam reddened at the thought of what Dean had implied.

"This isn't an episode of 'touched by an angel,' Dean," snorted Sam, trying to shake the awkward images that formed in his brain. "He just... talked."

Sam plopped himself down in Dean hand. The relief that crossed his brothers face was like an obvious wave. Not wanting to waste time on explanations, Sam continued,

"We don't have too much time left..."

Dean nodded grimly. "I know."

He shifted his position before standing up all the way. "I think I passed our next stop on my way here..." Instead over lowering him into the pocket again, he deposited Sam in a roughly sittng position on his shoulder. Dean carefully arranged the collars a bit higher so they would provide more cover, better if Sam slouched.

"Do you think he plans it all out or just makes it up as he goes?" Dean asked, still on his way winding down. "Cause I mean... We're just walking around New York City. No gunshot wounds, no 'nutcracker', or cheesy lines... Just me and you wandering the streets." He shrugged. "Besides you being a happy meal toy, this isn't as painful as last time." Dean said thoughtfully.

Sam nods, considering the thought.

"I think it's more serious this time, with the impending Apocalypse getting closer. Either that, or he's just warming up."

Sam shivered at the thought of this only being the start.

"Where to next?" Sam asked.

Dean sends him a very wry and very _close _smirk. "Most magical place on earth."


	8. Chapter 8

A balding tourist wearing an "I love New York" T-shirt stepped away from the main tour group to take a photo. His perfect framing of Wall Street was ruined when a blonde man passed right into the middle of it. The tourist grumbled, glaring at the man's retreating back. If he were to look closer at the unfortunate shot, he would have seen a tiny tuft of brown hair sticking up at the base of his shirt. But he deleted it without a second thought, following along with the tour guide.

Dean walked into the financial building, looking very out of place amongst the clean cut business suits running about. The smell of highly polished floors was as potent as a perfume store.  
"Archangel sending us on a quest to invest in stock? Yeah, not weird at all." He grumbled.

Across the room, a clerk stopped her work, staring hard at Dean. Her black hair was slicked into a bun, her lipstick a classy crimson. Keeping dean in her sights, she picked up the phone and dialed a phone number dedicated to memory.

Sam watched the woman while peaking behind Dean's collar, something wasn't right. The way her eyes never left Dean... or blinked for that matter, unnerved him.

"Dean... You seeing this?"

"Who, Wednesday over there?" Dean murmured back, reminded somehow of that iconic Adams family stare.

The woman nodded something and hung up the phone. She kept glancing up from her work, clearly distracted.  
"Can I help you?"  
The next time she looked up, he was right there, leaning his arms on her desk.  
"I'm sorry, I thought... You wouldn't happen to be Mr. Jones, would you?,"  
It was a 50/50 chance. This could be part of Gabriel's game, or a whole other pot of trouble.  
"...yes. A little behind schedule, as you can see, but.."

She perked up in a smile that was almost too wide for her face.  
"Starla's been waiting for you. Follow me?"

Dean did, and silently prayed that was a stripper's name, not a stock broker.

Sam grabbed the collar and slid beneath it, both for support, and to avoid being seen. Whether this was Gabriel, Demons, or just bad luck... it seemed smart to keep himself hidden. The uncomfortable sensation of being pressed against his brother's thick, warm skin was enough to make his own skin crawl.

Dean swallowed. He doubted he would ever get used to a tiny body moving against him like that. It just wasn't natural. He slipped his hand inside his jacket as he followed the shapely clerk up a flight of glossy stairs. He tightened a grip on the demon blade, bringing himself a small comfort in precaution.

The second floor was even busier than the first. She unlocked an ordinary looking door and ushered him inside a spacious office. It was furnished sparcely, with a lonely potted plant in the corner.

The lock slid in the door while the woman was facing him- making every hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"I thought it was gonna be hard to catch a Winchester. After all, I'm just an intern. But one does hear things-" she screamed as holy water splashed over her face and neck, steaming through her blouse. In the next instant, Dean had slammed her against the desk, demon blade in hand.  
"Please don't tell me you prepared a whole speech." He got ready to plunge the knife, but hesitated as he tried to sense where Sam was on his shoulder.

"Drop her." A new voice said, though none too friendly.

Sam clung awkwardly to the gigantic bulk of his brothers shoulder in a desprate attempt to avoid falling. All the while he listened to the scenario taking place before him... and with the addition of a new voice, he could tell things were just heating up.

Dean was nervous. Sam could feel that much, as a thin layer of sweat began forming on his skin, making it all the more difficult for Sam to hold on. He flailed his hands, trying frantically to get a grip on something...

Dean's heart pounded in his ears. All he could think about how this was all Gabriel doing; luring them here. And it was two on one, technically. A few tense seconds ticked by. He couldn't give them the upper hand, and what was worse, he could feel Sam slipping. If they got their hands on him at this size- NO. Not an option.

Instead of following through, Dean kept the blade on the demonic clerk's neck, turning her around with her back against him. In a quick motion, he slipped his other hand up. Little legs buckled as he scooped Sam back on his shoulder, under his jacket sleeve.

"Or what?" He glared at the new demon. He was a spindly little thing. 5'6" with a receding light brown hairline. But he had an unnerving "i'm in charge" confidence.

The demon smiled,

"We'll just have to see, now won't we?" He took a step forward, nothing but confidence in his stride.

"Go on." he prodded, sounding impatient, "Kill her."

Sam swallowed. Big shit was going down, and this was definitely not the right time.

Dean frowned. Demons on demon backstabbing was not unheard of, but it wasn't routine. Man, what he would give to have Sam in his corner right now. Well... _You know. _

__Dean tried to figure out how killing her could possibly help this dickwad. He came up short, and soon after plunged the serrated blade into the clerk's jugular. Her face lit up with the glow of hellfire, then went dark. He let her drop to the floor,  
crimson pooling at his feet. One down, one to go.

"You're next." He pointed the bloody knife out, assuming a defensive stance as they circled each other.  
'Just hang on,Sammy.' He thought towards his shoulder.

"Oh fuck," whispered Sam to himself. What he would give to be useful! He could exorcise a Demon of the top of his head, draw devils traps in his sleep, but here he was, stuck being hindrance rather than an asset. The only thing he was good at, was being overlooked.

Sam's eyes lit up. Maybe he could be useful after all... As Dean took a step forward, a risky plan began to form in his mind...

"Hm," the demon pretended to think, like this was no more concerning than a business deal. "Surprised they let you walk around with sharp objects these days. I mean, haven't you done enough?"  
"Shut up."  
"And where's dear old Sam? Joined at the hip, aren't you?"  
"Sam's busy. Sorry to disappoint, it's jus you and me." Dean sassed back. The demon stops its casual stroll and smiles cheerfully.  
"I would have liked to have the set, I won't lie... But I'm an opportunist. When Michael's vessel strolls into my office, what's a guy to do?" His back was to him at that point. Dean saw his chance and lunged forward to jump him from behind. It wasn't enough. With a flick of the wrist, the demon hurls him backwards through the air. Dean's back hit the opposite wall with a sickening smack. The knife clattered to the ground. The demon turned around to finish his thought: "...Sell him off to the highest bidder."

As his brother approached the demon Sam saw his chance. He crouched, building up what power he could muster in his legs. He couldnt have chosen a better time to jump. The moment his legs pushed off, Dean flew back, pinned by the demons power. Plummeting towards the demons coat, Sam stretched out his arms, praying he'd make it. His opened hands grasped the material and he was able to slow, and eventually stop the descent. The demon was thankfully to focused on his brother to notice.

Sam winced at the searing pain caused by fabric burn he received from sliding down the sharply dressed demon's coat. He'd landed on the mid back of the demon, clinging for his life on a fold of fabric. With all the strength he could muster he began climbing up the fold, carefully and as gingerly as possible, not wanting the demon to sense his presence.

Dean struggled, but in an odd way- he was just trying to turn his head to see his shoulder. He may have been pinned telekinetically, but he wasn't numb. He could feel that Sam wasn't there.  
He eyes darted across the floor now, panicked as he watched the demon's steps. Sam must have fallen off from the force. But where- the business man turned around, bending down and picking up the the demon blade.

Dean stopped struggling, jaw going slack when he saw his little brother scaling the bad guy. He wasn't sure what exactly he planned to do at all of 6 inches. It made a new worry line appear on Dean's forehead, but he had to admit... The kid had balls.

"So, what is this like a bachelor auction? Send me off to meet and greet with dusty old demon babes?" Dean drawled, stalling away.

"You expect me to tell you all of my plans like some poorly thought out villain's rant?" Snorted the demon, "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Sam shivered as the demon spoke. It rumbled in his chest. God this was weird... he was scaling a freakin demon! Once the miniature hunter made it to the back of the demon's collar, he was awkwardly able to sit in it, letting him use his hands freely.

Sam felt his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. He would have to do this fast... and if he screwed up... well that would be the end. Biting in his hand, an action that his instincts abhorred, Sam drew his own blood. He squeezed his hand, forcing more blood from his open wound. With a swift motion, he drew a circle on the demon's neck. He felt the creature stiffen with his touch. Not missing a beat Sam filled the bloody circle with a pentagram.

At the same time, he could feel the demon's muscles shift beneath him, as it raised its arm towards him,

"What the..."

Sam filled in the sigils, working his throbbing hand faster than ever before. He felt the demon's hand wrap around him just as he finished the bloody demon's trap. He pulled away, using the demon's surprise and confusion to his advantage. He's just immobilized a giant demon!

As the demon became cemented in place, Dean dropped to the floor, barely throwing out his hands in time to save his face. He got to his feet, enjoying the shock on the bastard's face.  
"That's more like it."  
He walked with a new spring in his step, plucking the knife out of the stunned demon's hand as he continued around. And there was Sam, teetering in the collar. Dean offers him his free hand, unable to hide the small, impressed smile that pulled up the corners of his lips.

The demon's eyes went wide. "Is this some sort of joke?"

Sam ignores the demon, too busy beaming up at Dean.

"Still don't think I could have went on that hunt?" Laughs Sam, too proud of himself to contain his ecstasy. Though, his mood is slightly dampened by rational thought,

"What are we gunna do with him?" Asks Sam, his eye flickering from the knife to the demon, "Should we gank him? or exorcise it?"

The demon broke out in a pale sweat. His eyes darted to the body on the floor, regretting his decision to disregard her life- not out of guilt, but out of selfish self-preservation.

Dean held his brother close, all too aware of the way that nasty was staring at Sam. The older Winchester eyed up the spindley broker, debating on how best to handle it. He sheathed the knife. If the host life could be spared, the better.

"Give 'im, well... Hell." He shared a look with Sam. "Would you do the honors?"

Sam didn't hesitate to start the exorcism. The words flowed from him with ease, never once pausing to listen to the pleading demon. With the final word, a heavy cloud of black smoke spilled from the demon's lips, as it was expelled from the body. Sams smile was so large, it seemed to dash away the fact he was 6 inches tall.

The empty body dropped to the floor. The two brothers stood for a moment, letting the stillness sink in. It was odd that no one had heard the fight outside the broker's office. Sam remembered hearing something about these places illegally having soundproofed walls, so that stock market tips couldn't be overheard. Tucking the dirty knife back into its sheath in his inner pocket, Dean let slip an exuberant smile.

"Dude, you full on ninja-ed that sucker!" Dean couldn't be prouder of his little brother. Six inches tall and still poppin' demons. It was perhaps the most bizarre of bonding moments.

Sam's smile could put the Cheshire cat to shame. He was a little red in the face from the praise, but he could care less. Getting over this size difference was a big step, being able to save his big brother made that step even bigger. All in all, it was a titanic step for a being so... well, tiny.

His brother raised him closer to his face, and Sam noticed the pride that was magnified in his brothers wide eyes. Sam was on cloud nine. His embarrassment, insecurities and anger towards his predicament seemed to dissipate, and with new found confidence, he leaned onto his brothers nose, meeting his eyes.

Sam snorted seeing how Dean went cross eyed in order to keep his eyes on him.

"That was..." Sam paused, looking for the right word, "awesome."

"Uh, yeah. And this is _weird_." Dean's eyebrows were just about as high as they could go. His huge hand shadowed Sam as he gingerly grasped his sides and held him a bit further from him.  
"Jus because you popped that SOB doesn't mean you get to use my face isn't a merry-go-round." He snorted, giving Sam an odd look, somewhere between endeared and weirded out.

"Wha... What's... Where am I?" The exorcised man was stirring on the floor. He was very sore and very confused as to how he ended up on the floor.

No time for a snappy comeback, Sam pointed to Dean's pocket. Understanding the gesture, Dean slid Sam inside. The situation was confusing enough without having to account for a miniature human.

Dean came over to the man's side, sliding hands under his back to help him sit up.

"Easy, you took a pretty bad spill there. How do you feel?"

"I-I fine. I just.. I don't know how I got here. The last thing I remember is making dinner for Lana and then we... Oh my gosh." The man turned white when he noticed the fresh, bloodied body lying on the floor next to him. "Did... Did I?" He looked at Dean, and though he didn't accuse him aloud, he was wondering pretty obviously.

"Gang hit." Dean explained. He pulled out a fake ID and flashed it at the man- too brief a glimpse for the dazed guy to notice it was a National Heath Inspector Identifcation. "I'm a PI with the police department. Been tailing the guy for weeks, you're lucky we got here when we did."  
"We..?" The man gave him a perplexed look. Dean blinked, processing the mistake.  
"Uh, yeah. My partner is taking the perp in now."

This seemed to be good enough for the broker, and he let Dean help him stand on increasingly steady feet. They made their way outside, hastily. Dean spurred by the necessity to put as much of a distance between himself and that body just waiting to be discovered.  
"Allright buddy. Head home, talk to your wife-"  
"Wait, you don't need me to come into give a statement?"  
"Later. We'll call you, okay?"  
"Oh..kay.."

With a very non-detective like smile and a slap on the back, the blonde man turned and left, blending into the crowd.

~~~

"Okay... What the HELL was that, huh? I thought this was some stupid shrunken scavenger hunt. Is it just me, or did that whole thing smell like a setup?"  
Dean's mind was racing anew. A few people gave him odd looks as he spoke directly and urgently to apparantly no one.

"I don't know. I mean, considering his constant tabs on us, a coincidence like that... well it doesn't seem likely." Shouted Sam, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. The sliver of trust he's felt for Gabriel was smothered with doubt. "What time is it?"

"Little past noon." Dean paused at a crosswalk before deciding it wasn't worth the wait, and crossed diagonally betweeen rows of taxicabs at a standstill. He tried to pace himself this time, remembering how rough a light jog had been for his pocket passenger earlier.

The next place he entered wasn't on the map. Not Gabriel's map, anyway. But New York pizza was definitely on his to-do list for the day. He knew they were in a hurry, but he couldn't work on an empty stomach.

Sam could feel the blood drain from his face, and he was for once glad that he was riding in the pocket so Dean couldn't see how disturbed he was. Sam knew where they were before he saw anything. It was the smell that greeted him, filling his nose. Something about his size made the smells so much stronger... and so much more crisp. His stomach rumbled. He's never graved so much junk food until he had shrunk, and he began wondering if it was due to the magnified smells and tastes, or if Gabriel's eating habits were contagious.

Dean glanced down at his pocket. Sam was being unusally cooperative about this. He'd honestly expected that little head to poke out and glare at him, tell him that he couldn't think about food at a time like this. But nothing. Not a peep.

"Let's hope you don't start getting picky now." He muttered, stepping up to place the order.

Things were looking up by the time Dean had two slices of classic cheese pizza in his hand- one with a few olives added. He chose a tiny little table in the back of the joint and set down the food. He pulled Sammy right out, setting him on the table top behind a convenient stand-up menu.

"Ta-da," He brandished a hand over the slices, waiting for the gleeful response that should be everyone's reaction to pizza. "Come on- we've _earned_ this." And with that, he picked up the first one and took the first bite. It was absolutely amazing.

Sam couldn't help but gape at his brothers gigantic maw, as he stuffed it full of pizza. Sam swore that Dean took bites bigger than he was... Brother or not, Sam couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the thought. Not wanting to get caught staring, Sam walked over to the other slice. The smell wafted over to him... it was intoxicating. It was so unlike him to eat unhealthy, let alone be tempted by the aroma of a greasy cheese covered snack. Yet, here he was sitting on a plate, practically digging handfuls of cheese and sauce off the plate, and shoveling it into his mouth.

"You know," started Sam, his mouth still half full, "We really should be getting a move on..."

God this pizza was so good...

"Ten minutes. Just give me ten minutes, Sammy." Dean said back in between bites. He never complained but he was used to eating a bit more than a little pastry for breakfast. As he took a drink of water, he scanned the sparcely occupied restaurant to make sure eyes were safely averted frm the potential discovery of his brother. He inhaled the first piece and was itching to take the second, but he waited until Sam was done.

"Man, you must've been starved." He observes quietly. It was pretty cute, watching his six inch brother takeon a piece of pizza longer than him. But it made him feel alittle more bad for him, too; he guessed that girly Danish hadn't cut it him, either.

Sam shrugged, and continued eating, his hands dripping with the greasy sauce,

"Things taste better," Sam swallowed another bite, "like this."

Upon attempting to wipe the grease from his lips, he only ended up spreading the sauce on his face.

He looked up at his brother, who sported an amused smile. Sam could feel his face growing red hot.

Caught. Dean can't pretend he wasn't staring, but he makes himself useful by tearing off a strip of paper nain and passing it into Sam's teeny hands.

"Things taste better... Like, what, being tiny?" He asked, bewildered but not patronizing.

Sam gave Dean an embarrassed smile as he accepted the napkin. Nodding, Sam wiped his face clean, as well as his hands.

"The tastes... the smells," said Sam, as he leaned back, feeling the itis begin to take hold, "Everythings bigger... kinda, magnified." Sam eyed the pizza, but thought better of it and returned his stare to Dean,  
"Imagine tasting every ingredient. As much individually as as a whole."

Sam leaned back farther, now on his elbows. His eyes fighting to keep open. It seemed as if the itis was magnified at this size too.

A considering pout just Dean's bottom lip out a bit. He tried to imagine apple pie more vividly than it could possibly be. Hard to fathom anything tasting even better than something that already tasted like like heaven on earth. Scratch that- better than heaven.

"Guess that's not a bad consolation prize if we lose the game." He finally hummed in reply. He jabbed a big finger at the other piece of pizza. "You gunna eat that?"

When Sam shook his head, Dean picked it up, folding it in half with one hand. The other hand instinctually started to reach for Sam, intending to stroke his back.  
Luckily, Dean caught himself and pretending to just be resting his hand on the table near Sam. Gosh, if Bobby saw him now, he'd be going on about what a softie he was becoming... Ugh.

Sam snorted upon hearing Dean's carefree attitude towards losing Gabriel's game. Either Dean was going to be in well over his head, or he was just more well adjusted than Sam. Both thoughts made him cringe equally. Sam tried to think possitively, as he assured himself that he'd figure out the moral to the story before it was too late.

Honestly, he'd felt a few possible ideas bubbling, but nothing that seemed solid. He tried to dwell on it, but the itis seemed to lay on him. His eye lids fell, and shot open a few times. Rather than falling asleep on the greasy table Sam lazily stood up and shuffled towards Dean's hand. He'd been meaning to ask Dean to put him in the pocket, but as he leaned on the soft, warm hand, words seemed to be to much of an effort.

As he stared up at the lights which gradually became fuzzy, he wondered if the itis was really enforced by his size, or because Gabriel was messing with them. Dean seemed to be fine... maybe.. his thoughts trailed of into oblivion as his eyes shut.

Dean watched him curiously, but said nothing as his little brother cozied up against his left hand. Dean swallowed his last bite and wiped his greasy hand on his pants.

"Sam?" He asked quietly. He pushed the plate away and slid both hand and brother closer to the edge. No response. Sam didn't even flinch.  
His big green eyes scrutinized him, unsure of whether to be concerned or not. He normally didn't just pass out like this... Then again, he wasn't supposed to be smaller than a Barbie doll either. Dean pursed his lips, looking at Sam's sleeping body. He tilted his hand a bit so Sam fell into the shadow of his fingers, then gingerly picked him up. Sam's long hair completely fell across his face as he was lifted up. Dean scoffed.

"You're lucky I don't take a pair of shears to ya while you're out, shortie."

He slid Sam into his lower jacket pocket this time, keeping the hand coiled carefully around him. After consulting the map one more time, he stood up and started the long walk to Citi Field.

"Demons on Wall Street.. What's next? Angels in the Outfield?"

Dean's stride swung Sam back and forth peacefully, with no jarring movements. As Sam drifted further and further into a deep sleep. Unaware of his actions, Sam wrapped his arms around Deans thumb, awkwardly cuddling it. Had he been even the slightest bit more conscious, he would have stopped himself in his tracks, but Sam was out cold.

"Hey kiddo,"

Sam knew he was dreaming. For starters, he was normal size. Secondly, Gabriel sat across from him, with a wry smile on his face that seemed to tell Sam he had just started having fun.

Sam felt an anger bubble inside him, as he recalled the close call they had had with the demons,

"What the Hell Gabriel!?" spat Sam, glad that in his dream, he was able to yell down at the angel instead of upwards.

"What is it with you guys and shouting?" Gabriel scoffed. He remains seated, for now letting Sam have his moment to be tall. "Okay," he admitted. "So I threw you a curveball. But tell me it didn't feel good... Proving your big brother wrong for once, huh?"  
There was a flicker of personal experience in his eyes.

Sam knew the angel had a point, but still, so much could have went wrong! As if reading his thoughts, the angel smirked.

" Dont worry your pretty little head, moosey. I was watching."

The thought didnt seem to offer any comfort. The angel pulled a sucker out of thin air and popped it into his mouth.

"I suggest you step up to the plate." said Gabriel, eyeing Sam. "You still haven't figured out my little game." Gabriel laughed at his own pun. Sam just glared down at him.

"You have to start making the connections, Sammy," The angel paused to smile, "Cause things are only going to get more fun for me the longer it takes."

With a jolt, Sam woke.

Dean's hand clenches in surprise along with a gruff voice above. Sam is pulled out to face a grey sky dominated by his brother's visage. They were actually inside a phone booth right outside Citi Stadium.

"Aw, you've got pocket hair." He cooed in greeting. Another huge hand crowds his vision as Dean tries to mash down the poofy flyaways of Sam's shaggy hair.

Dean knows he may be setting himself up for an ugly helping of revenge when he's- NO, if... IF he ends up shrunken down tomorrow. But that wicked grin won't leave his face.

Sam swats at the oncoming digits.

"It's probably on end cause of your rank pocket," groaned Sam, as he shakily stood on Dean's palm, stretching his limbs, "How long was I out anyways?"

"Two hours. You missed a good Mets game." He looked at him like he still could believe he stayed asleep during all that noise. Dean shook his head, the optimism fading from his face as he considered the time left.

"I gotcha something though," he produced a tiny red jersey and held it out between a finger and thumb. "Lifted it off a toy in the gift shop." He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder. It was going to rain. Just awesome...

Sam visibly paled from the mention of how much time they had left. Though, he forced his lips into a smile after seeing the jersey. That was just like Dean to do something like that.

"Thanks Dean..." Sam paused an looked up at his big brother. The look of hopelessness that covered his face was devastating, "I mean.. for everything."

The puppy-dog eyes make a full and potent appearance. It takes Dean a bit off-guard, and both appeals to the part of him that feels under appreciated... As well as fill him with dread. Sam had no more idea about the endgame of this fiasco than he did. His own brother might as well be shrinking him himself, a grim part of Dean prompted.  
Dean swallowed and gave a gruff nod.

A rude rap on the glass startled them both- "Mister, get a move on! Some of us actually have phone calls to make!"  
"Chill your tits!" Dean barked back over his shoulder. He turned back to his little brother in his hands.

"Shoulder or pocket?"

Without saying a word, Sam points to the shoulder. As Dean lifts him up, Sam teeters in his standing position... Dean's hands seem a bit shaky. Stepping of the palm, Sam takes a seat on Dean's shoulder, while his brother fixes his collar.

"We'll figure this out..." Whispers Sam , almost as much to himself as Dean.

Dean hears him, but he doesn't respond. He knows false encouragement when he hears it.

He folded the collar over Sam's legs, and waits for a tap on the neck- Sam letting him know that he's concealed the rest of himself.

The subway trip was not as long as the first one, but it sure felt like it. Dean sat there, staring at his boots with the full force of his pent-up frustration. His feet hurt from walking all over the damn city. And for what? He couldn't help Sam. In fact, he felt like he was going to crush him if he grabbed him too hard. He hated this. And he hated what was to come. Hated being so easily manipulated by a more powerful being. He rested his head against the glass window and scrunched his eyes shut.

"Cas.. If you're around, we could really use a pair of wings over here..." He peeked open his eyes. No response.

Sam could see his brothers turmoil. In fact, he was drowning in the sullen air that his brother gave off.

"Maybe Gabiel's keeping him away..." Sam mumbled, trying to comfort his brother. Time was slipping by so fast. Sam felt the pit of his gut grow heavy. This was on him. He had to do it. He could figure this out!

His eyes wandered, catching a glimpse of the large digital clock above one of the doors on the subway. It was already 4pm.

Dean heated up a bit, not having intended for anyone else to hear. But of course Sam would. He could probably hear him_breathing_, for cripes sake. His shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug.  
"Makes sense."

The subway screeched to a halt. Dean's heart leapt to his throat whenever he felt tiny fingers or elbow bump his neck as he climbed he stairs back to open air. The sun was beginning its descent, making the glassy skyscrapers reflect a rosy hue. "Get a load of this." He breathed. He stools towards the back of other tourist taking pictures, leaning way, way back to see the too of the Empire State Building. It was immense and almost impossibly tall in person.

"Looks better on the postcards." Dean decides almost immediately.

More refreshing than overbearing, the chill of the open air embraced Sams tiny figure. Sam breathed out. It was immense. More so than the general population around him. This wasnt just giant... it was colossal... God-like, It was incredible. Sam stared, eyeswide with awe, at the impossibly large building.

"Whoa.."

A taxi behind them laid on the horn, along with another two shortly after. Dean turned, and ended up having to jump back out of the way as a moped career es out of control, the rider just barely able to crash it to a halt into a lamp post. He picked himself off the ground, smelling the smoke. The rider collapsed nearby. "

Hey! You okay?" Dean hollered.

She nodded shakily. "Stupid brakes.."  
"You need a better mechanic." He advised.

She laughed bitterly and stood up, going over to call a tow comany while others offered additional assitence.

"City that never sleeps, huh, Sammy?" Dean grumbled. He glanced to his shoulder and glimpsed the red jersey. "I swear if I ever get my hands on Gabriel, I'm gonna turn him into dartboard." He stood up and brushed hismelf off, not realizing his shoulder was vacant.

Sam hadn't been paying attention until Dean had began rapidly moving. Thrown from his spot Sam fell from a sickening height. With out stretched arms he was just able to catch the corner of Dean jacket as he free fell. As Dean continued to move around, Sam found his grip slipping, and the more he held tight, the more slippery his hands became. He strained with all he could to keep attached, but one more swift movement from Dean jarred him loose.

He felt hollow as he fell. A shell of himself. He was so detached form the situation he had no time to scream, or even feel for that matter. His only thought was how he was going to die, splattered on the pavement, at a pathetic 6 inches tall.

The splatter. however, never came. Instead, he landed roughly against a soft spongy surface. His heart was pounding against his chest with such force he imagined it would beat its way out of him at any given moment.

Looking skyward, Sam's vision was filled by a familiar face.

"I came as soon as I could," said Castiel plainly, "but my brother..."

Half a block away, a tiny red slip of cloth fluttered in front of Dean's gaze. He snatched at it with a fierce frown, recognizing the little jersey he'd given to Sam.  
"Sam?" He stopped in his tracks and looked at his shoulder. "Sammy-" he clawed at his collar, his heart plummeting as he found it bare. Sam wasn't there. Which meant... He could be anywhere. He'd be dead in an instant. Nonono This could not be happening. Throwing his hands up to his head, Dean swore loudly enough to turn heads and pivoted in place on the crowded sidewalk- coming nose to nose with Castiel.

He blinked, then stepped back. "Sam, he's-"  
"I know." The angel intoned, holding up the tiny man between them. Dean slumped with relief and crushing guilt upon seeing Sam was alright.

"We need to talk." Castiel looked over his shoulder like he was being followed. "But not here." He put a hand on Dean's shoulder, but nothing happened. "Gabriel must not want you to leave the city." Castiel muttered. Dean looked around.  
"This way." He led the way towards a discreet alleyway. It smelled like garbage and urine, but they could talk openly.

`"Dean," started Castiel, his gruff voice filled with urgency. "We have to ge-"

"Now now, Castiel." tsked the familiar voice of the trickster, who appeared beside Dean,  
"No ones leaving. Not until We've finished our little game."

"Gabriel," growled Cas, as his unblinking eyes burned bright with purposeful authority. "They're needed elsewhere."

The trickster raised an eyebrow, smiling wryly,  
"Are you questioning me, brother?" he said, in mock shock. After a moments pause, his eyes lit up, and a playful smile smeared itself across his face.

"It sounds like you want to join the fun." With a snap of his fingers, a bright light engulf Castiel,

"You're not taking these boys anywhere," laughed Gabriel, "And you're not going anywhere either. You're on house arrest Cas."

Castiel's cold blue eyes remained unfazed, but Sam could feel his muscles tense.

"Let the games begin!"

With that final, exaggerated shout, the angel disappeared, but this time, with a flashy array of smoke and sparkling lights.

Dean coughed, fanning the excess smoke away with his hand. "Isn't he worried you're going to reveal his secret identity to the god-squad?"  
"I'm no rat." Castiel replied, almost defensively. "I heard your prayer, Dean. But just barely. Gabriel's kept you almost entirely off the grid."  
Dean bobbed his head in a nod. "We figured as much."

Castiel brought Sam up, square and center in front of his face. "Why has he done this to you?" His piercing blue eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him.

Sam backed up on the angels palm. God, even now Cas still had no regard for personal space.

"He said it was to teach us a lesson." answered Sam, as he shot a glance at Dean, that pleaded to help him out.

Dean Put a hand on Castiel's wrist, prompting him to lower the hand a bit.

"We've got squat on the lesson crap. He's gonna do the same to me if we don't crack this in less than four hours."  
Castiel's eyes widened, nostrils flaring at this revelation. He looked skyward, as he often did when searching for answers, a stern look on his face.  
"I don't understand what Gabriel could possibly gain from having the two of you shrunken in stature... What exactly did he say to you?"

Dean racked his brain from all the times the trickster had popped up. Finally he shrugged wearily and shook his head. "Nothing. He's giving us nada, and He keeps sayin' it like it should be obvious."

"He thinks he's helping..." mumbled Sam. Castiel nodded sullenly, as if he knew Gabriel's tendencies all too well.

"It's best to go along with it for now." mumbled Cas,

Sam looked up at the angel, upset he had no other information.

Dean drug a weary hand over his face.  
"Go along with it?" Dean repeated. "We've been going at it all day! You ask me this is just some fucked up way of getting us to say yes to letting Lucifer and Michael hi-jack the wheel."  
"It's...possible." Castiel admitted. He was undaunted in the face of Dean's raised voice.

Sam groaned. Now was not the time to be bickering. They needed to figure things out pronto and then this whole ordeal would be done with. It wasn't only the fact that Dean wouldnt have to go through with it, but the fact they were wasting time. Lots of time. The longer it would take for them to figure out the lesson, the longer they would have to deal with this. Sam sighed. He needed time to think, but the constant go-go-go agenda that Gabriel had them following seemed to make it impossible.

"Are you two done?"

The two colossal beings turned their attention to Sam, and he stood in the palm of Castiel's hand.

"The quicker we get through this, the quicker we get back to everything else." Sam ran a hand through his hair. He was frustrated. He just wanted to get this over with.

Dean pulled out the wrinkled map from his pocket. Castiel leaned over his shoulder, trying to make sense of it for himself.  
"We've hit these..." Dean smoothed a fingertip across the landmarks they had already been to. There were two left. He tapped the one that was closer by a long shot. "If we're gonna finish the list, this one's our best bet."  
"Lady Liberty," Castiel read. "Are we meeting a diplomat?"  
"No, it's a statue." Dean said with a note of amusement at the angel's naivety. He gave him an expectant look. "You know... The Statue of Liberty?"  
Castiel gave him a blank look.  
"Nevermind, you'll see." Dean put the map away and glanced down at Sam before turning towards the mouth of the dingy alley.  
"Will we be..walking there?"  
"Heh, relax. It'll do you some good. But yeah, my baby's in the corner today. She's good about it but- sheesh, Cas, you gotta hide him!"  
He stopped short. Cas looked down at Sam. "Oh. Right.."

Sam couldnt help feel a twang of fear from hearing head be seperated from Dean. While he hated the needy feeling, he felt much safer with his brother than with the naive angel who possessed no regards for personal space.

Though, as he was dropped into the pocket, many of his qualms were put to rest. Castiel's steps were graceful and caused minimal movement, but more so, the pocket smelled clean, and Sam allowed himself to smile.

"You should take cleaning lessons from Cas," Shouted Sam, "His pockets dont smell rancid."

"Sorry, can't hear ya." Dean shot him down immediately, not wanting to go into his clothing hygiene for the umpeenth time that day.

The walk alone took over an hour and a half, during which Castiel made it a point to remark on how tedious and inefficient it was to walk on foot, period. He balanced it with admiration for the many souls walking around them. Dean was eager for a subject change, cause it was just reminding him how tired he was. When they got to the ferry dock, they had to hurry to catch the very last boat of the day. Dean turned over the pamphlet in his hand. It closed at 6? It was 5:45 now!

The sea breeze rushed past with a salty spray. It felt good.

Sam could smell the sea breeze as it rushed past the pocket. Sticking his head out, he took in his surroundings. He felt his stomach drop as he realized how late it was getting. The bright colors that decorated the sky gave him an uneasy feeling in his gut. Focus. He needed to figure out what this lesson was.

Thinking back to all he had done, he tried to formulate some sort of consistency. Maybe it was over coming big obstacles? No.. that seemed to literal. Something about trust? Or reliance? That seemed to make sense. He wished Gabriel's clues gave more to him...

At least now he had a postulation formed, but with time running out, would he be able to elaborate in time?


	9. Chapter 9

As they got closer to Liberty Island, Castiel suddenly made a noise of recognition and smiled.  
"I remember this."  
"You've been here before?"  
"No. I was there when it was sculpted."  
Dean gave a small scoff and shook his head. Of course he was.  
"Was the model hot?"  
Cas gave him a perplexed look. "No.. His mother was actually quite cold in the studio."  
With his buzz of smokin' chicks in minimal drapery officially killed, Dean looked back toward the approaching destination.

They got off the ferry along with the rest of the tourists. Dean kept glancing at Castiel's pocket, even when he couldn't see Sam. It was still such a weird concept, to know that contained within that tiny bit of fabric was his once enormous little brother. With anyone else, he wouldn't even consider letting them hold Sam, let alone carry and conceal him. But he knew that Cas understood the trust placed in him by the action.

The group of people suddenly groaned. The entrance was roped off and ticketing closed.  
"I'm very sorry," the security guard was saying. "But due to the government shutdown, the statue is currently closed to the public. You can take picture of the perimeter and visit the museum.."  
This was not satisfactory.

"We've got to get inside." Dean murmured. He had a great story for a government agent made up and ready, but he'd only brought a US Wildlife service and a Heath Inspector badge from his fakes. He sidled towards the side of the ropes, nodding at the other door for employees, guarded by a rotund security officer. "You think you could take out Officer Chubbs over there?"

Castiel frowns, "I'm sure if we just explain the urgency of our situation..." his voice trails off as he sees Dean rolling his eyes. Without hesitation, Castiel made his way to the guard and palmed his head. The Guard fell slack to the ground, and Castiel turned to Dean, "let's go."

Dean was already wrenching open the door, ushering Castiel inside and bolting the door shut behind them.  
"Sammy? You okay, man?" On the second flight of stairs, they came to a large landing. It was pretty dark, save for a few windows up ahead feeding the orange glow of sunset.  
"Take him out, would you?" He asked not so patiently.

The fingers reached in through the darkness of the pocket, snagging Sam in their gasp. Cas held the minature hunter in a fist, and while the grasp was light, and gentle, Sam's distaste for the confinement burned furiously in his eyes.

"I'm fine Dean," He groaned, pushing at the fingers, "I was just thinking."

He pushed harder at the fingers, God could Cas not take a hint?

Dean held out a hand and curled his fingers inward in a "gimme" motion. Castiel deliberated for a moment, and that shocked him to the core. Did he not trust him with his own brother? What the hell? But then the hesitance was gone, and Sam was gently deposited back into his possession. His inner tightness loosened a bit, having him back in his own hand. It was good to be in charge again.

Castiel led the way, across the landing, past an abandoned reception area. Dean put a hand on his gun instinctively. They had to be on guard for whatever Gabriel had in store ahead here. But against an arch angel? It would be a waste of bullets.

"Hey," Dean jabbed a thumb towards a door marked 'service elevator'. "Shortcut."

"Or a trap?" adds Sam, slightly snarky. Although he was much more comfortable with Dean, his brother's possessiveness was quite apparent, and even more so the annoyance to Sam. When the pair of giants turn their gaze towards him, he shrugs,  
"Well, a closed in space doesn't seem like a convenient place for a trap to you?"

Dean stared down at him, mouth slightly agape. He really doesn't want it to be true, but Sam had a good point.

"Dammitall," he huffed, shoving open the door and starting up the first of many long, narrow staircases winding upward.

Sam couldn't help but smirk as the two giants climbed up the stairs, both obviously annoyed with the amount of steps. Once again, it was one of the few times he didn't mind his current stature. Although, he'd take stairs over being shrunk any day.

"Having fun Dean?" he asked, as his brother completed yet another flight of stairs.

"Bite me." Dean panted. Though the snark was actually encouraging to hear from his little bro, he was too out of breath to come up with anything better. They weren't stopping to enjoy the view, not taking a break... Just kept going. His lungs were burning with the increasingly cold air. Keep going.

Dean leaned against the wall and took a few deep breaths. Then he kept going.  
"Would it kill them to install a frickin escalator?!"

While Sam knew deep down that this was a desperate situation, he couldn't help but snicker at his brother misfortune, and Cas's obvious distaste for this time consuming affair called "walking." The snickering soon became full out laughter as he watched his brothers titanic face grow red; maybe from exertion, maybe from embarrassment... probably both.

"All that pie is catching up on you Dean," chirped Sam, as Dean continued to power up the stairs. While he was laughing, a part of him knew that if Dean would just pace himself, he wouldnt be so exhausted... but their situation was dire...

"How about you carry me the next few flights?" Dean snipped back, glancing down to arch an eyebrow at him: _don't push it wise-guy_

He had to slow down to a trudge shortly after that. So... Many... Stairs... Time cruelly stretched out and each floor looked the same as the last. But finally- FINALLY- Dean saw a light at the end of the tunnel.  
Literally.  
They were at the final landing, and at the end of the darkened hallway, electric light flooded in from an open door.

"354." Castiel stated.  
"What?" Dean snapped.  
"There were 354 steps."  
Dean rolled his eyes. "Awesome."

The sarcasm was lost on the angel. Dean held Sam closer to his body as they approached the door, and whatever lay beyond it.

Sam felt guilt wash over him from Dean's words... if he didnt figure out the solution soon, he would be the one carrying him. Ignoring Catiel's odd comment, Sam questions Dean,

"What should we be looking for anyways?"

Dean holds a finger to his lips in reply. Music could be heard wafting out from the door. He sidled along the wall, straining to hear around the corner for a voice or.. Anything. He exchanges a meaningful look with Castiel, then rounds the corner and enters the top room.

The view is breathtaking, but it's not the priority. It looks like an abandoned birthday party;There's balloons floating about the space ant an untouched cake on a little plastic tale. Piles of confetti crunch under their footsteps.  
"Not creepy at all.." Dean mutters.

"Okay..." Mumbles Sam, confusion practically dripping from his lips. He looks around at the party-like atmosphere, avoiding the view. Sam most certainly does not wish to see how high up his is. Looking from place to place, he notices among the many balloons their names are printed on some of them. He counts one his name, and one for Dean, and even one for Cas. More embarrassingly so, he see's a balloon with a moose printed on it, as well as another with a pie, and a third with a set of wings. The odd atmosphere puts his hair to a stand.

"Gabriel is here." States Cas, as if he were commenting on the weather, "I can feel him."

Sam's head swivels around, but he doesn't see the angel, but, something else does catch his eye. A deep red balloon that lazily floats alittle ways away from Dean seems to have something inside of it. Squinting his eyes, he's still unable to make it out, but the shadow certainly indicates the presence of, well... something.

Sam points out the balloon to Dean,

"Dean...Can you pop that balloon?"

Dean follows his gaze and narrows his eyes at the vague shadow within. He pulled out his switchblade and prompted Sam to hop onto his shoulder so he can take the balloon by its ribbon. He tucks it against his abdomen and slices the taut rubber in a clean stab.

With a loud POP, the balloon burst in a shower of rainbow confetti and a minature version of the archangel landed gracefully on the back of Dean's knife-bearing hand.

"Surprise!" He blew into a festive noisemaker. "About time you yahoos got here." Dean made a grab for him with his free hand. There was a little whoosh of air, and Gabriel was now standing next to Sam on Dean's shoulder.  
"Mm. Not much of a view, is it?"

Sam made a dive for the angel, but his move was easily anticipated. In a puff of sparkles and confetti, the angel was gone once again, and Sam was sent teetering over the side of Deans shoulder, his arms flailing to remain balanced. A hand gripped him from behind, bulling him back up. Waggling his finger at Sam, the trickster leisurely strolled on Deans shoulder, much to Dean's obvious annoyance.

"What? Not enjoying the party?" With a snap of his fingers, all of their clothes are replaced with tuxedos, and looking over at Castiel, Sam notices that Gabriel included a ridiculous party hat on the angel. Castiels look of annoyance is apparent. With another snap to lounge chairs appear, each facing the other.

"Take a seat boys." Laughs Gabriel, As he leans against Deans neck, seemingly oblivious to any size difference.

It had been weird to have a teeny version of Sam lounging on his shoulder. But two tiny people was sending orange flags up all over the place in his mind. Dean yanked at the constricting bowtie around his neck, just barely able to restrain himself from flicking Gabriel off of him. He discarded the bowtie on the floor in a sign of minor rebellion before taking a seat as instructed. Castiel did the same, looking very serious in contrast to his silly hat.  
"Enough games, Gabriel." Castiel started carefully, eyeing the minature arc angel on Dean's shoulder. "How can you be so petty when war is tearing apart our heavenly home?"

The tiny angel's light hearted mask cracked. An angry fire burned within him.

"Petty?" The angel's glare made him tower over Cas, despite his tiny stature. "Whats going on upstairs is petty." growled the angel, his voice carrying perfectly, a complete contrast to his size.

"Whats happening here, is lessons, learning, growth. This is what our father wanted. He wanted teaching. That squabbling that you call war? Thats whats petty. Our Father is gone. His lessons remain, but it seems me... Of all the angels, ME! Its me whos the only one who wants to provide!" His voice had steadily been raising, but Gabriel manages to push the emotion behind the mask once again. With a snap of his fingers, a coffee table appears between Dean and Castiel.

With inhuman grace, Gabriel slides down from Dean's shoulder via his arm, landing swiftly into a step on the table.

"Speaking of lessons," mulls the angel,

A spotlight inexplicably appears on Sam, even though there's no discernible light fixture light that in the room. Dean squints and shields his eyes as Gabriel waves down Sam like a game show host.

"Sam, why don't you tell the class what you learned today."

With out warning, Sam is suddenly transported from Dean's shoulder to the center of the table. The transportation is instant, and Sam stumbles, slightly confused by the sudden teleportation. Sam bites his lip nervously. With Castiel and Dean looming over him expectantly, Sam suddenly feels fear shoot up his spine. He feels smaller than ever.

After clearing his throat, Sam looks towards Dean, then Castiel, and finally the trickster. "Reliance." States Sam.

Gabriel raises an eyebrow,

"Oh DO tell us more, Sammy."

Sam closes his eyes, gathering the thought he hadnt realized had been ruminating him this entire day.

"I can rely on Dean. Cas too. You wanted me to see I can rely on others, and... and... " his thoughts we're escaping him. Oh God, he was going to fail... Dean was the one who was relying on him, and he couldnt even do this. He looked up and Dean, his brother was smiling despite it all. Looking over him in such a comforting manner. He looked sad and happy at the same time... a strange comparison. The dark sky loomed behind him. The sun had finally set, yet there was a bright warmth around his brothers face, that made him believe everything would be okay. Thats when inspiration struck.

"You wanted me to see that there are people here for me when I fall. Despite my short comings, you wanted to show me there are people who," Sams eyes turn to Cas, "will catch me."

A soft smile crossed the Archangel's face.

"Have to admit, moose, that's not half bad." Gabriel said with a nod of approval. Dean's smile widened, beaming at Sam. This was all over now. He looked to Gabriel, expectantly awaiting for him to snap his fingers and fix him.

"..and I gotta say... that speech of yours is gunna make me feel bad about whats coming next."

Sam could literally feel his heart drop in his chest.  
"No..." The words came out quiet, and disappointed.

"Sorry boys," Gabriel says, tilting his head to the side apologetically, "games not over just yet."

Dean's face falls. Castiel suddenly shoots out a hand, two fingers extended towards the little arch-angel. Gabriel makes a lazy "shooing" motion without even turning around. Castiel is thrown back in his seat by an invisible force, a noisemaker adhered to his lips. He tries to speak, but the little rolled papered just unfolds and curls back up with the air.

"We had a deal!" Dean's hand slams on the table. His menacing expression comes from a place of desperation, which is all too easily read.  
"Um, hello? Trickster?" Gabriel points to himself, giving the larger hunter a 'duh' expression.

Sam feels the anger and betrayal boil within him. After all the trouble they had gone through, after everything... they were back to square one.

"What the Hell, Gabriel?!" Roars Sam, taking long strides towards the Angel. Gabriel stares up and the hunter looming over him with a wry smile. Sam knows he can't do anything to stop the Angel, but his anger tells him to overlook logic.

"I'm DONE with your games. We are NOT your toys. I'm fed up of all your crap! We're done!" His shouts come out uneven and vicious, but the trickster stares back at him, unfazed.

"Game? Oh Moosey, the fun hasn't even begun!" His movements are dramatic and superfluous, as if he were acting on a sit com. Snapping finger and both hands at ones, the bottom of the table turns into some unidentifiable board game.

Cas's eyes go wide, and he struggles in his seat, his noise maker blaring annoying warnings. Gabriel snickers, and raises his arms above his head. Light surges from the game board, engulfing the four in its blinding embrace.

When Sam vision clears his eyes are filled with bright colors. The world around him looks like a strange version of candy land, complete with cotton candy trees and peppermint stones. A bright blue sky looms above them, and Sam swears that the clouds are made of whip cream.

"Welcome to the REAL game, boys."

Sam spins around to catch the source of the voice, and nearly knocks right into... Dean? He stares down at his brother, his eyes wide. Normal... both of them... normal!

"Dean!" Sam wraps himself tightly around his brother, so pleased to have things the way the should be.. Well, their heights at least. As he squeezes his brother tightly, he notices Dean's feet aren't touching the ground... Odd... he didn't remember picking his brother up... and thats when he sees it. Dean's figure slowly becoming smaller and smaller within his grasp.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean squeezed him back, relishing the ability to do so with having to worry about unintentionally crushing him. Fora moment, he forgot about how they were standing on a road paved with m and m's.

First, it was like standng on his tip toes. Then his arms don't reach all the way around Sam's back, despite several attempts. He would have slipped, but he was still held tight by his hulking little brother. Two feet, one foot passed him by and he began to freak a bit. He finally stopped around what he was guessing was six inches. Same size Sammy had been. He was now standing in Sam's slightly shaky hand. His friggin' hand! Dean didn't want to look up, but he steeled his nerves and did it anyway. The sky was dominated by vast plaid leading up to a gigantic face frowning down at him in bewildered concern. The sight made him queasy.

"Fuck." He sighed. Dean flopped backwards in the car-sized hand, thoroughly exhausted by this size-changing business.

Sam stared down at his hand. Oh god oh god oh god... what should he do? Going from tiny to normal to giant (by comparison) was making his head spin. Dean stared at him with wide eyes and Sam stared back, mouth slightly agape. Was this what he had looked like to Dean? So small... fragile... Sam swallowed.

The awkward silence was broken by the wheez of a noise maker, and a sudden popping sound. Sam turned his attention to a pleased looking Castiel who'd managed to free himself from the noise maker. Looking back to Dean, Sam swallowed again before lightly nudging his brother with his thumb.

"Dean?"

"Gehh," Dean scrunched up his face at the disturbing sensation and shoved the big digit away. "I'm busy ignoring the problem." he said, pushing himself to a sitting position. He took a peek behind him. Through the gaps in Sam's tree-thick fingers, he glimpsed just how far off the ground he was. Yep, he was pretty sure that pizza was going to be making a reappearance..

"Quit staring." He snapped up at Sam.

Sam pursed his lips. He could relate to the distaste towards giant eyes staring at him, but where the hell was he supposed to look? Dean skin had taken a pale, almost sickly hue, and Sam was not okay with getting puke on his hands. Castiel moved to Sam side, his face filled with concern.

Awkwardly, Sam sat down, hoping the lessened height would do Dean some good. Memories flashed back to him, reveling how much he hat hated the height, and he couldnt imagine how Dean, someone actually afraid of heights, would feel.

"Better?"

Dean nodded, keeping his gratitude silent. He kept his eyes down as he pushed off of Sam's middle finger and stood on slightly shaking legs. The palm compressed like the flesh it was underneath each boot. Ohhh so weird..

A shadow fell over them. Oh great. Cas was a giant too.

"Boy, just when I thought your face couldn't get any uglier..." Dean started out grumpily, but ended up smiling weakly. Seriously though. Was this the angle Sam had been putting up wth whenever he looked at him the last 24 hours? Yikes.

The feeling of Dean moving on his palm was beyond weird. The light weight that shifted on his hand felt so odd. As he stared at Dean he notice how shaky his normally stoic brother had become. Or was it his hands that were shaking. His nerves were buzzing as he tried to keep his head steady as his brother stood, but the more he tried the more he shook.

Sam scrunched his nose at the insult, but soon remembered all the unflattering angles Dean had graced him with.

"Right," muttered Sam, "Cause you're such a doll to look at... Oh wait! You are!"

As carefully as possible Sam lowered his face and raised his hands slights, trying to fix Dean's perspective.

"How's that?"

Dean would have reacted more to the bad joke, but keeping his balance on Sam's sweaty hand required a fair bit of attention. He nearly fell on his ass when it moved upward. Everything was so different... Moe intense. He had never felt more pathetic. He was conflicted, but a part of him was happy that Sammy was getting a break from this nightmare.

A gentle humid breeze wafted forward, whch he surmised must be Sam breathing. He had been freaked out about not being able to see his face so well when he was tiny, but boy could he see it now. He looked up at the big hazel eyes and slowly nodded. At least he wasn't looking up his nose anymore.  
"Yeah," he said finally. There was a pause as he took something into consideration, then crossed his arms. "You did good, Sammy. This isn't your fault."

Sam could feel a bit of heat creeping into his ears, and he wasnt sure if it was anger or embarrassment. He's done everything he was supposed to, and still failed. Sam sighed. Here was Dean, barely 6 inches tall, and still trying to comfort him. Something about that concept made Sam feel smaller than when he's been in Dean's place.

"Glad to see everyone's getting adjusted," the voice of the trickster seemed to be coming from everywhere and once, "Now let's get this show on the road!"

Dean looked up, past a colossal tan trench coat toward the cotton-candy colored sky. There was no Gabriel in sight, big or small, but his presense was undeniable.

"What is this, _Candy Land? _" Dean barked, cupping his hands around his mouth. "How gay can you get?"

There's no answer. Not exactly, anyway. A little dragon-fly like creature with sugar coated wings buzzed up to land on Sam's curled index finger. It tilted its head at the tiny man, spit a stream of water at him, then flitted away. Dean stood there sopping wet, mouth agape.

Still no response from the trickster, but the clouds seemed to form an arrow pointing them down a direction of road.

Taking his sleeve, Sam attempted to wipe off Dean as gently as possible.

"Should we play along?" he asks, looking between Cas and Dean.

His eyes were clouded from the water, so all Dean saw was a big dark shape moving toward him. The pressure of fabric, though he was sure it wasn't much, was enough to make him stumble back a couple steps, into the walls of curled fingers. It was incredibly embarrassing, but his minor protests went unheard inbetween swipes.

"It's our best shot." Dean finally shrugged. He cleared his throat and ushered the two giants in his midst with a gesture of his hands. "Come on, let's get move on."

As Sam shakily stood, he regarded Dean curiously,

"Um," he paused, trying to figure out how to continue, "how should we do this?"

Sam nodded to his pocket and then his shoulder and then, more hesitantly Castiel.

Dean's little green eyes moved from place to place with a bit of a delay at the new altitude. Normal things looked alien now, with so much magnified detail. With as much dignity as he could muster, the older Winchester jabbed a thumb toward the shoulder.  
"No one to hide from anyway.." He mumbled.

Sam nodded, and raised his hand up sliding Dean onto his shoulder,

"I suggest you find something to hold onto," whispered Sam, not liking how he could feel Dean, but not really see him. The sensation of little feet on his shoulder was odd as all hell. "It gets a little bumpy..."

He walked beside Castiel, making sure Dean sat on the shoulder between the two of them, just incase anything were to happen. He noticed the Angel turning his head to stare at Dean, his eyes unblinking and filled with a nervousness that Sam had never seen in the Angel.

Dean looked around, immediately going for the collar. IT was one thing to just tuck little Sam against or under his own collar. But doing it himself was surreal. The collar was thick and cumbersome. As Sam took a step forward, the meaning of "bumpy" sank in, and Dean promptly took a seat inbetween his jacket and shirt.

Castiel was by no means subtle. Dean felt the weight of his gaze as tangible as a barbell on his shoulders.  
"You're gonna run into something, Cass." He muttered, his normal sarcasm coming slower than usual. He didn't feel so hot.

As Sam walked, a few locks of his hair bounced from behind his ear and kept tickling Dean's arm. He glared at it, tempted yet again to just take his pocket knife and cut it. Shoving it away was a losing battle, so he gave it a yank to get Sam's attention to fix it.

"Dude. _Haircut_."

Sam flinched, immediately regretting it. His hand reached up to steady Dean, but Cas's hand was already there. The gesture aggravated him. He was there for Dean. Not Cas. Breathing out, Sam calmed himself.

"Thanks Cas."

The angel nodded, and looked at Dean, titling his head,  
"Dean. Are you okay?"

Dean had certainly not expected a cringe to be his death sentence. All it took was one violent jerk from Sam to loosen his grip enough to send him sliding forward. Just as suddenly, a wall of skin shot in front of him. His booted feet pushed off of the angel's palm, allowing Cass to assist him back to his previous position. Add another tally to the number of times Castiel had saved his life. Dean sighed inwardly.

"Fine." He shrugged, in contrast to his racing heart. He turned his head to see humongous blue eyes still fixed unwaveringly on him. It both comforted and unnerved him.

"Cas..." mumbles Sam, a little awkwardly, "Personal space." The angel looks slightky caught off guard as he backs up, his eyes still flickering to Dean. Sam pushes his hair behind his ears as a nervous habit. This day couldnt get any longer. He hated Dean being on his shoulder. He'd rather have him somewhere his brother had more grip... Somewhere he wouldn't easily fall off from a stupid mistake.

Sam was so lost in his thoughts he nearly overlooked the strange sign the protruded from the side of the road. Looking closer he noticed it read, in bright gold letters: _Challenge #1._

They stopped in a field of flowers that had pixie sticks for stems. "What the..?" Dean squinted an the sign, looking around. There was nothing-  
"Cas!"

Castiel had suddenly buckled at the knees and keeled over. Dean hung on tight to fists of fabric as he caught sight of another sign, to the left that marked their location as "Sleepytime Meadow". Ignoring the dweeb-tastic name, Dean snapped his attention to his brother's huge profile as he felt him begin to sway.

"Sam.." He warned, nervousness flashing across his face.

Sam felt a tiredness wash over him. everything started to feel heavy. His thoughts grew foggy as he desperatly faught to stay awake. But why was he fighting? The answwer was so unclear to him. He was faightly aware of Some shouting to his left. Dean? Why did he sound funny. He sounded really worried... Sam swallowed. Dean could wait. His limbs grew heavier and he found himself teetering on his feet. He had a primal instinct begging him not to fall. Not to sleep... Sam sucked in a deep breath and held it, a trick Dean had shown him when he was little, a way to wake up faster. He held his breath till he could feel his heart beating in his ears.

His body flooded him with adrenaline, but the moment he let his breath go he could feel the fog settling upon him once more. Dragging Cas, Sam pressed on, but he could feel his will, and muscles protesting with ever step.

"Dean," He wheezed, "I'm gunna-" Sam words tumbled to a stop as he felt himself falling forwards.

_Shitshitshit_- Dean scrambled backwards on the jacket. He snagged a fistful of the back of the collar and swung himself over in the nick of time. Sam's body impacted the ground wth the force of a skyscraper collapsing beneath him. The impact jolted Dean to the core, his skull smacking painfully against Sam's back. He barely felt himself sliding off the jacket and onto the ground. He got a face full of dirt... That tasted like chocolate?  
Dizzy, he rolled over onto his back.  
"Oreos," he realized aloud, grinding the crumbs between his fingers. His body warned him against standing up. He ignored it.

"Sammy?" He went over to his brother's unconscious body lying beside him. He held a hand under his nose long enough to ensure he was breathing. He stood back. He jogged down the length of Sam's mile long body to find Castiel's equally enormous figure slumped, face resting in the fake grass with arms outstretched to break his fall.  
"Cas." Dean stood center before his face." He gave a hard push on his cheekbone. The skin sank in a bit, but the angel didn't stir.

"Great. A field of Roofie Roses." He kicked the nearest plastic-y blue stem. It left a little dent, then reinflated. Because Dean Winchester was shorter than a flower.

He was on his own to fix this. As he trudged through the forest of flowers, Dean got the feeling he was going to be learning a very different lesson than his brother.

The trickster watched the events unfold. As Dean trudged off into the field, Gabriel bestowed a sort of clue upon the miniature hunter, in the form of a discarded wrapper conveniently placed in his path.

It bore the instructions that Dean must find a sucker for Castiel and Sam, in order to wake them, but choosing the wrong one could "end up more fun than he bargained for" whatever that was supposed to mean.

Dean had to say, as he started out on this ridiculous hunt through a forest of sugary flowers and lollipops... HE felt the like sucker. He tried to keep his mind focused on the task at hand to get it over with ASAP. At least he didn't have to kiss em to wake em up. It was a faint silver lining.

The lollipops stuck out of the ground at different angles, and writing on their sticks bore their flavors. Some were ridiculous, like "glitterific grape" or "sparkling strawberry". But there were also creepy ones like "Bog fly" and "Dirty socks".

As he was wandering, that annoying dragon fly for earlier whizzed past. He took a defensive stance but it was already out of sight. Then the buzzing returned like a hideous biplane and it dive-bombed him from above. Dean hit the ground, covering his head.  
"Oh that's it."  
He stood up and pulled out his handgun. The next time the thing flew by, he shot it in the head. With a satisfying thump, the annoying dragonfly dropped dead to the ground. Dean stepped over the carcass and squeezed between two closely growing pixie flowers to comb through the next lollipop plant. There was one called "Red Zinger" with a little black lightning bolt on it. Maybe a shock would wake Sam. He grabbed the stick and yanked it loose, setting it aside. He was looking for a matching one amongst the colors growing over head. He spotted one with little blue wings on the bottom. Raspberry flavored. It reminded him of Castiel, and seeing as he had no other leads to go on, he went with his gut. It was just out of reach, so Dean had to climb the "stems" in order to pull it free.

That turned out to be the easy part.

Dean drug the lollipops back the long trek to the unconscious giants. Going to Sam first, he sliced off the wrapper with his knife and hefted it up in his arms like a battle ax.  
"Now how the hell do I get you to take this?" He muttered to him with a focused frown. It made him stomach lurch, taking a good long look at just how BIG Sam was. It would be easy for him to kill Dean without even meaning to. One wrong move... Dean now felt the other end of that worry cycle. He steeled himself and walked up to his lower face. Sam's mouth along ended almost at Dean's chest like this. He pushed the lollipop forward, ending up only making Sam kiss the pop.  
"C'mon.." Dean scowled. He set the pop down and pushed at Sam's chin with all his might, barely budging the jaw ajar a bit. "I just want you to know this is hands down the weirdest thing I've ever done. Including those confused triplets in Sacramento."  
Sam's mouth was now gently relaxed. A little drool started to pool in the corner of his mouth as Dean shoved the pop again, switching it to one hand so he could reach inside and pull at his lower teeth. He never wanted to think about this EVER again.

_Just a little bit more..._

Sam was vaguely aware of a pushing sensation on his mouth, but it was only when whatever it was that was pushing touched his tongue, that he felt any type of clarity. It was like a cool wind hand rushed through him upon contact. His eyes shot open, and his body buzzed with an electric adrenaline that forced the sensation of a caffeine rush upon him, only this was more potent. MUCH more potent.

He shot upwards. The energy inside of him made him desire movement. Blinking rapidly he took in all the sights around him. Everything was clear. Bright. Detailed. His thoughts seemed to rush by like cars on a freeway. Dean. Tree. Candy. Sucker. His blinking increased as he tried to calm himself.

With mild confusion he removed the sucker from between his lips. A flavor that he hadnt realized was surging though him, died down, along with some of the energy. He could feel the remaining energy inside of him, as it pushed him from within, looking for a way out. It was then that he felt it. A strange pushing sensation from either side of his head. He the energy as it pushed outwards. He felt his hair move, and as he lifted his hands to the sides of his head, he gasped.

Antlers. Fucking antlers.

Dean lay in a heap in the bright green grass, picking hismelf up yet again. He rolled over in relief and horror as Sam not only woke up but jumped up to his feet. Not risking getting stepped on, Dean took a running leap onto the nearest boot and tugged hard on the pangleg.

"Yo, ugly!" 

Sam flinched at the touch. Bending down, his head tilted awkwardly at the new weight. His eyes fell upon his miniature brother. He was so small... so easily overlooked...

"Dean," his voice came sharper then he'd meant, "What happened?

"I'm not an expert, but it looks like you grew antlers." He replied, his smart-assed answer practically a shout to be heard. Why was he just looking at him like that? It made Dean feel smaller than he was. Like the bug he had killed earlier. "But hey listen. I need you to pop this-" he hopped off the shoe and retreved the blue lolly from where he'd left it a few inches away. "-into Cass' mouth."

Sam's eyebrows knit together in confusion.  
"Um... okay?"

He bent down, scooping Dean up as carefully as possible. The sensation of having his big brother in the palm of his hand was so odd. Momentarily, he thought about how he liked having Dean rely on him. He immediately shook the thought from his head. He tried to focus on keeping his hand steady instead, as he lifted Dean as slowly as possible to his shoulder.

Unwrapping the candy, he easily inserted it into Cas's mouth.

"Is he going to get," he pointed to his antlers. "these too?"

Dean took the implication to climb onto the shoulder again- though after Sam going timber just under an hour ago, he was a teensy bit hesitant. He got himself as secure as possible, straddling the shirt collar and finding a good hold on a decorative slit in the jacket.

from here, Dean got a good look at the aged, genuine antlers sprouting from his brother's face. As disturbing as it was... It got him grinning. They were baby moose antlers.

"Heh, maybe he'll grow a pair of permanant glasses to fit his whole "nerdy angel" thing."

Before Sam was able to reply he felt a blast of chilling air and the scent of peppermint seemed to engulf him. The smell seemed to fizz and spark in his nose, slowly turning into something more like raspberry. Turning his attention to the angel, Sam gasped.


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel brushed hismelf off as he stood.  
"Gabriel's spell.. I must have-" he stopped short, stoic features looking between Dean and Sam with deep concern. He looked confused trying to surmise on his own what had happened.

"Sam... Your head-"  
"Cas, turn around." Dean interjected. Castiel immediately looked over his shoulder. Like a dog chasing his tail, he spun around in an attempt to see the bright, plastic blue angel wings protruding from his back.

Even Sam couldnt help but snicker at the sight, despite his own misfortune. Cas gave up trying to chase the wings and groaned. This was ridiculous. He was an angel of the lord, not an object of ridicule.

"Well," said Sam, dipping his head side to side, testing the weight of the antlers, "I guess it could be worse..." Castiel shot him a glare. With mild hesitance, the trio pushed onwards down the candy laden path.

One thing Sam had been right about was how everything was amplified, magnified to extreme sights, sounds, and smells at this height. Dean was practically drooling from all the strange and wonderful smells. The antlers shaded him, and almost disturbed him more than the size thing. Dean tried to sneak a picture of it for blackmail purposes, but it didn't come out well; the tiny aperture on his phone camera couldn't capture the whole picture. He snapped it shut and leaned into Sam's neck.

"Huh. We got three bars here." Dean said as he stuffed the cell back into his jeans.

"And who would we call?" laughs Sam, "Uh, hey Bobby, we're stuck in candy land." Rolling his eyes, Sam tries to mask how uncomfortable he his with his brother on his shoulder. He thought he would have gotten over it by now, but the constant shifting weight was almost mildly irritating. When Dean leaned against him, he had to fight to repress a shiver.

The further they ventured, the stranger the surroundings became. Hills of icecream, with trees made of massive sticks of chocolate, and leaves of taffy, by rivers of chocolate milk.

"This place is like a heart attack and a half," notes Sam.

Dean snorted in agreement.  
"It's making me hungry for real food." He put a hand over his mostly empty stomach to comfort himself. "What I would give for a Philly cheesesteak .."

Sam's breathing became heavier, super loud now that he started to think about it. And his heartrate was picking up in his neck. Dean could feel every swallow of saliva, breath and sigh. Needless to say it was freaky as hell, but when taken into consideration, he realized Sam had been walking now for over an hour without complaint.

"Sam. Slow down, your pulse is gonna hammer a hole in my back." He progressed on a more serious note, looking up towards the far off gaze of his younger brother's profile with as much authority as he could muster. "Don't push yourself so hard, man."

Sam rolled his eyes, and reached back to pluck Dean from his perch. A short, deep shout of surprise escaped the tiny hunter as he was jerked up in the air by a positively massive hand. Dean had been a little too used to Sam's considerate movements that this quick movement left him short of breath. It didn't help that there were no familiar shapes in the passing blur; everything was enormous and distorted. Finally, he was staring back at his own reflection in Sam's enormous hazel eyes. He looked even more pathetic than he felt, pinched between a finger and thumb. _This is so WRONG... _

"Dean, I'm walking. I think I can handle walking for a bit." He paused to bring Dean to eye level. "Besides, the quicker we get through this, the quicker we can get back to normal."

Even as he said this, Sam had still slowed to a stop. His legs were tired, and his feet were numb. In a sense, he was envious that Dean didn't have to walk, though he much preferred moose antlers and candy land, to being 6 inches tall.

His stomach growled. A sound that he hoped Dean would overlook. Not simply because it was embarrassing, but also because he remembered what a disturbing sound it was when he was in Dean's position. Though, Cas' staring had shifted from Dean to Sam, making the noise all the more obvious, and Cas' silent presence became all the more unnerving.

Dean quirked an eyebrow, recovering from the closeness to the loud noise. He turned a full-forced glare on his younger brother.

"Sam I don't care how hungry you are. You put me down or I'm gonna knock your teeth out."

The initial reaction to Dean's threat came in a muffled laugh. The notion of a miniature Dean taking on, well, a giant, was more than funny to imagine. Though, almost immediately, an enormous guilt fired up inside of him, making his insides boil. He knew that anger that reflected in Dean's tiny eyes… The feeling of patheticness that seemed to engulf him. The feelings were all too familiar as he had faced them earlier that day. Sam swallowed dryly and adjusted his hand so Dean was sitting in his palm.

Sam's expression softened, and while he searched for something comforting to say, he found nothing. Instead, it was Castiel who spoke up in place,  
"I'm not sure you'd be able to do that, given your size."

Sam cringed at the angel's naïve logic.

"Yeah no shit, Sherlock!" Dean whirled on him, getting red in the face and at the tips of his little ears. Castiel looked about as taken aback by the hostility as he was about being deliberately called by the wrong name. Dean's scowl relented somewhat under the piercing blue-eyed scrutiny. He meant well. But it didn't make this any easier for him.

"Sam... Put me on the ground." He saw the hesitance in Sam's face and wondered if he might refuse him. "I'm short, not handicapped. Let me stretch my legs a bit while you find something to eat." In a final gesture to win him over, he jabbed a finger towards Castiel. "Cas'll keep an eye on me,"

Sam pursed his lips, but complied with his brother. He felt so hypocritical now that they had switched positions. With Cas watching over Dean, he felt more comfortable, but he'd rather be the one doing it himself. After Dean slid off his hand, Sam hustled away, having seen some candy apples a while back… the healthy alternative in a world of sickening sweetness.

Once alone, Cas loomed over Dean awkwardly. It was as if he didn't quite understand comforting gestures.

"Dean," started the angel.

"Yeah?" Dean called over his shoulder.

One look ventured way up at the colossal version of Castiel staring down at him, and Dean had turned heel and started strutting towards a little gurgling spring. He was pretty sure it was soda, judging by the fizzing bubbles, but he was thirsty.

"I don't see how anger betters the situation." The seriousness of the angel's tone contrasted with the odd flapping of the plastic wings with a subtle breeze. A careful distance behind Dean, Castiel took a step, following the tiny hunter.

"Last time I checked, there wasn't an upside to this situation, anyway." Dean shouted back, raising his voice to be heard. He got to the edge of the spring and turned around. "Sit down or something. I don't need you squishing me with your nerdy loafers."

He didn't have to look up to know that Castiel was giving him that soul-piercing look. There was a loud rustling of fabric and plastic as he took a seat cross legged in front of the tiny hunter. Still weird, but at least his face was closer.

"You're afraid." Castiel surmised. Dean bristled.

"I'm not afraid." he balked at the idea. "I'm.. Pissed."

Cas's face seemed to gravitate towards Dean, inching closer as the angel slowly withdrew the distance between himself and the dwarfed Dean.  
"I'm not a fool Dean." speaks Castiel, his blue eyes unwavering. "I'm thousands upon thousands of years old... I know fear when I see it."

The angel's head tilts, as if he's unsure of how to continue.  
"So what is it you're afraid of?"

Dean backed away a couple steps out of pure instinct, but refused to back down further. Castiel was not a threat, he reminded himself. He was an ally. A friend... No matter how friggin gigantic he was. It was just so weird to see something be so familiar and yet... Not. It crossed his mind that Cas had mentioned his true size was near the size of the Chrysler building. Maybe this was what that looked like.

"I'm not good enough, okay? I work my ass off, but it's not enough. Never is." Dean huffed. He turned his back on the giant angel and knelt at the spring bank, dipping his hands into the liquid and brings the bubbling soda to his lips.

Cas stared at the hunter's back. His blue eyes seemed to drill at it with such intensity that Dean could feel their presence. It was then that Castiel did something so unlike himself, so foreign... so... human. He reached out, his hand steady, and draped it over Dean, his thumb resting on one should, while his fingers fell over the other, in what little comforting gesture he could offer.

"You give, Dean." Mumbled the angel, "You try. That in itself is enough."

The little shoulders stiffened under his touch, then slumped. Dean turned his head to look at the thumb resting on his shoulder. It didn't help him with the whole feeling tiny thing, but it was a comfort to know Cas still had his back.

Dean said nothing.

With awkward motions, Castiel rubbed his thumb up and down Dean's side. The stress wafted from Dean, almost as if he was submerged in it. The angel wished he could free Dean from it, but it was so deeply rooted in him that it would take much more than a few words and a kind gesture. Cas continued the motion, unsure of when he should stop, or remove his hand. It was only when he heard the thudding footfalls of Sam's approach that he removed his hand.

Unknowingly interrupting a chick flick moment, Sam plopped himself beside the angel wearing a wide smile and raised eyebrows. His hands figited behind his back as he shifted his weight. Though despite his strange anxiousness, Sam remained quiet as if waiting to be addressed.

Dean felt the tremors, too. He turned around as the hand lifted, and Sam's huge form crashed down next to Cas. He wiped his mouth, rubbing a hand of his chin absently as he watched the mile long legs stretch out like denim-clad bridge supports.

"Didja taste the rainbow?" Dean called over, arms crossed over his chest.

Sam rolled his eyes, and moved his hands from behind his back while he sounded out Dean's favorite words: "I found pie."

Any hesitance he had towards his younger brother evaporated. In mere seconds, Dean was scaling Sam's calf, pulling himself up to his knee and making a gimme motion. "Hand it over, come on. If anyone deserves pie here, it's me."

Sam shivered at the feeling of his brother pawing up his leg, though he was happy that his brother seemed more... normal in the presence of pie.

"Dude chill," laughed Sam, lifting the pie outta reach, "Do I even get a thank you?"

The beautiful slice of pie soared out of reach so easily... It was driving him crazy, how little he could do on his own.  
"Pie first." Dean gave him a flat look.

Rolling his eyes, Sam complied. To some small extent, it annoyed him how he was still obedient to his brother despite his size. He shook his head, trying to escape the thought. Dean was still the same Dean. Size shouldnt be an issue.

Once Sam held it close enough, Dean dug in with fistfuls of pie filling. The savory taste of apples and sugary pecans filled his senses to the max. He practically melted. It was SO good. He could feel both Castiel and Sam watching him incessantly, but right now he didn't have it in him to tell them off. Maybe it was the pie talking, but somehow he knew that it was okay. Everything was okay...

"You should try some of this." He stifled a burp into his jacket sleeve after wiping his mouth. It probably looked like he had barely made a dent in the slice, though he had eaten plenty, comparatively. Dean's eyes got droopy, and looking up at Sam, the colors seemed to all blur together, like the line work was fuzzy. He flopped back on Sam's knee, and ended up sliding down to his lap. Dean didn't even care. The sky was pink and blue. So funny.

While Dean practically attacked the pie, Sam stared down at his brother, barely aware of the smile that crept up his face. Something about A miniature Dean preying on a comparatively gigantic pie was... oddly cute. The added fact that the whipped cream had made its home on Deans face, even after wiping was not helping. After his brother leaned back satisfied, Sam shot a sicken glance at the dent Dean had made in the pie. While to him, it was barely anything, but size wise Dean had devoured a ridiculous amount.

An inkling of concern washed over him as Dean slumped backwards onto his knee. He remembered the itis had hit him hard at Dean's size, but the fact that it could have just as easily been the work of a certain meddling angel gave him a bad feeling in his gut. As gently as possible, he poked a finger at Dean's stomach, attempting to annoy him away from slumber.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

The miniature hunter cringed inward a bit late to protect his stomach.

Dean chuckled darkly, gaze lolling over towards where the flannel wall of Sam's shirt ended. "Oh, I'm awesome. An action figure lost in candy land. Living the dream here." His sarcasm was still intact, despite his daze.

Sam sighed, and used his pinky to wipe the remaining pie from Dean's face.

"This'll be over soon enough," whispered Sam, his voice steady, despite being soft. Sam slid his hand behind Dean's back.

"Is the pocket okay?" asked Sam, as his brother was clearly not awake enough tostay safely on the shoulder.

Dean felt sick to his stomach with regret. He recognized the effects of a narcotic pumping strong through his bloodstream. He recalled all too clearly how eagerly he had dug into the pie. How could he have been so stupid?

Everything was going way too fast.. Way too _fast._.. 

A wall of fingers was suddenly closing around him. He defensively posed himself with arms outstretched to stop the fingers from closing all the way.  
He looked upward with frantic eyes, but he couldn't manage more than a sleepy grunt of disapproval.

Sam stared down at his brother with confusion,  
"Dude, its fine, you've been awake for over 24 hours. You can take a nap. 'Sides my pockets don't smell half as bad as yours..."

Sam's voice trailed off. Dean looked pale. Dean looked _scared. _

Sam forced Dean to sit up, and brought him to his face,

"Dean?"

Tiny green eyes blinked rapidly as air hurried past. He squirmed in Sam's grip, looking for freedom but finding his efforts pathetic in comparison. And why was he looking at him like that anyway?  
_Probably because he finally sees how useless you really are, champ. You couldn't stop him before, couldn't save him now..._

"Dean? Dean?!" Sam felt useless. Pathetic. Here he was, able to hold his brother in his hands, yet completely unable to do anything to help him. Something was wrong. It had to have been the pie. How could he have been so stupid? Why hadnt he tested it first?!

Castiel's head shot up.  
"Give him to me," he said.

With no other options, Sam complied. In a fluid motion Castiel pressed two fingers to Dean's head. Dean instantly fell limp in the angel's hands. Castiel shifted his grip considerately, cradling the tiny hunter with an air of reverence. 

"He will be unconscious for the next two hours, approximately. Gabriel must have embedded some sort of hallucinagen into that pie." He frowned at Sam, managing to look past the antlers and be very serious indeed. He stood up and urged Sam to do the same. "We should continue. I don't know if the effects will wear off with sleep."

Sam felt on edge without his brother in his hands. The fact that his brother was unconscious made it even worse. He tried to swallow the possessiveness down, but it was a difficult battle. Stretching his legs, Sam started down the path once more. He didn't speak, neither did the angel who still cradled Dean, staring at his body as if his will power alone could reverse the effects. Though Sam was sure that that might be entirely possible.. It still did nothing to ease the harsh edge that creeped through his thoughts. He wanted to be the one helping Dean. Sam was deep in his thoughts, wondering what Gabriel had in store for his brother.


	12. Chapter 12

Castiel slowed to a halt as the cracked candy road led them to a rather menacing gathering of black, twisted trees. "Licorice Forest," Cas read aloud- mostly to himself.- off a dilapidated wooden sign hammered to the foremost tree. It dead silent... And surprisingly dark as they progressed. if they didn't know better, it would have been thought Castiel was close to cursing as his blue wings got caught inbetween branches for the umpteenth time.

Sam watched with distaste as the angel slipped his brother into his pocket. The possessiveness he felt was overwhelming! With a huff, Sam pushed forward, trying to ignore the powerful urge to take Dean from the Angel.

As he walked, the trees grew tighter and tighter. Now it was not only the angel who was having problems, but Sam as well. His antlers continued to catch in the licorice, much to his annoyance. He thought about how Dean would probably be laughing at the absurd sight of him yanking at licorice trees, and having his antlers jumbled in their mess. Sam sighed.

"Dean loves this stuff," notes Sam, as he frees himself from another low hanging branch.  
"I can't stand it myself..." He back tracks slightly in order to help free the angel from an oddly wrapped piece of candy.

Castiel breathed a word of gruff gratitude as his wings popped free. He felt the poignant weight of Dean's body thus lightly against him in the pocket. But true to his word, the effects of his divine influence kept him unconscious despite the ungodly ruckus.

"It's rather... Cumbersome for a snack." Cas complained, glaring at a little wriggling licorice vine to his right.

"It tastes even worse," laughs Sam, although the laugh comes out forced. As the par venture deeper into the bizarre forest they stumble upon another sign, similar to the first.

**_Challenge #2_**

Even as they're reading, thin tendrils of black licorice snake upwards from the ground, claiming the sign as their own. They thickened and constricted until the wooden board broke in two with a loud snap. The men took a few steps back as the wood splintered and sank into the ground.

"This is a children's game?" Castiel sounded extremely skeptical, not to mention alarmed as he looked down at his feet to see the ground coming alive with hungry tendrils.

Grabbing Castiel by the arm, Sam dashed down the path, pulling the angel along with him. He hurtled the snacking strands, as they reached on for him and the angel, all the while desperately looking for something that could be useful.

His eyes fell upon a tree unlike the others. One with green taffy leaves, and candies budding from the chocolate branches, like fruit. Below the tree was another sign:

**How desperate are you?**

As a tendril of black licorice forced him away from Castiel, the answer become apparent. Very desperate. Sam pulled against the tight grasp the licorice had seized on him, strainging to make it just a little further. His hand reached towards the out-of-place tree that was still out of reach. With one final push, he managed to grasp a single ball of bubble gum. Sam shovedi The candy in his mouth, begging this not to be a trick.

Families and friends cheered on the hot metal bleachers. It was sweaty and crammed with people, but Dean didn't mind. He was sitting right next to Lisa in the third row, watching Ben's baseball game. Ben stepped up to the plate. Dean shouted encouragement, cheering alongside Lisa as the kid swung. Missed. Swung again... Hit a full home-run! He felt as proud as any dad there as he watched Ben slide onto home plate.

"I'm so glad you could be here." Lisa beamed up at him. She stole a quick kiss, and Dean went back to deepen it.

A wolf-whistle sounded out. "Gotta hand it to you.. You know how to pick em." Dean raised his head, dread pooling. Yup.  
"Are you kidding me?"  
"Nope. Not even in your dreams." Gabriel smirked as the wistful dream faded away to an empty field.

Thunder rolled overhead. Storm clouds Dean were certain hadn't been there a moment ago were now gathering at a rapid pace.  
"The Good guys don't always get a happy ending."  
"Preaching to the choir on that one." Dean answered readily. He smelled licorice, and realized that must be what the archangel was chewing on.  
"I know. But this little fantasy world of yours is holding you back."  
"Thanks for the pointer, Yoda. Now get the fuck outta my head."

"tsk tsk tsk" laughed Gabriel, "We have quite a bit of time left together. I think we need to spend it with some quality bonding."

"Great idea. Why don't you start by kissing my ass?" Dean snarled. He stared hard back at the man across him. Wind blew now in strong gusts around them, making heir hair and clothing catch the breeze visibly. But he reused to bend. He refused to break under Gabriel's labyrinth. Thunder cracked like a gunshot. It was so loud, the earth itself shook. Dean threw out his arms to keep his balance.

"See ya soon." Gabriel's eyes darkened with a tinge of sadism as the hints of a smirk faded from his face. Then he disappeared in a gust of wind.

Dean looked up at the sky. A flash of lightning sparked across the sky and the whole world went black. Now it wasn't just the ground shaking- EVERYTHING was in constant, uneven motion. He was flung back and forth in a closed container.. Walls strangely made of cloth. Chaotic noises of something crackling, huge shoes pounding the ground, slipping, Castiel's insanely loud shot ringing out overhead. Dean struggled to piece the barrage of sensory information together.

Castiel was snagged at the ankles, bound by the licorice that rooted him into the ground. His momentum sent him sprawling forward. He shot out his arms so as to not crush dean. The inertia inside nearly sent Dean straight out of the pocket, but it enabled his to stick his head out. It was a distorted angle, but Castiel was on trouble.

"Cas?!" Dean bellowed, starting to get out of the pocket. Castiel's arms were shaking. Couldn't crush Dean. Couldn't...

"Dean, I.. can't.." He gritted out. Dean scaled the trenchcoat to the collar just in time, as Castiel was pulled flat to the ground by twin licorice vines, binding around his back. Dean pulled out his knife, standing on the back of Cas' collar. A new vine tried to snake around the angel's neck, and Dean promptly set to sawing it off.

Similar to the other candy, an energy surged through the flavor. Though, unlike one prior, this one left a strange sticky feeling in his veins. He felt warmth surge through him, but nothing else. Though the candy gave him enough energy to escape the creeping vine of licorice, he could feel no obvious or helpful differences. Pushing his luck, Sam grabbed a handful of gumballs, and shoved them in his mouth viciously.

The energy the erupted from within his mouth was staggering, first a blinding light, than a shrill bizzing in his ears. His legs went numb. As he took in a deep breath, the discomforts subsided. He felt a great power welling inside of him. Something both icy and boiling. As if it were instinct, Sam grasped a vine that had been snaking towards him with lightning reflexes. It froze at his touch, then withered into ash. Sam looked at his hands, both confused and amazed.

He ran forward to Castiel and Dean, knowing all the while something was wrong with him. Things sounded funny. Louder, more clear... And something was making walking awkward...

"What happened to your super-human strength and endurance?" Dean shouted, his arms burning from sawing away at the third licorice vine that was trying to keep Castiel pinned to the ground. The angel kept straining to push himself up, but the vines kept coming and it seemed like no amount of angelic brute force was going to break them.

"I'm... No...Arch...angel." Castiel grunted rather impatiently in reply.

Dean saw Sam in the distance, huge as ever, but he didn't get a good look, as a licorice tendril stole the knife out of his hands and constricted around his tiny wrist. Suddenly the ground shook, and a new darkness fell over him.  
"Sam!" Dean's stomach dropped when he looked up at his brother. Was it just him or did the kid look even more colossal than earlier. And was he... Glowing?

Sam ripped off the tendrils of licorice with a burning furiosity that he didn't know he possessed until now. His movements were radical, but held enough logic to avoid touching Dean and Castiel, unsure how his touch would effect them.

His ears were burning, his eyes strained, and his back was arching strangely. The energy crackled in the air around him. He felt dizzy. Very dizzy. As he fell to his rear, he placed his palms to his eyes, immediately regretting it. The brightness from his own hands seemed to momentarily blind him, and he began blinking to clear the spots from his vision.

As Sam spat out the gum, he felled the energy dull, and through closed eyes, he hoped the glow had dulled as well. His attention drifted towards his ears. The itching that covered them was enough to make him grit his teeth. Sam reached to scratch himself, but when his hand connected with his ear, he stopped. His eyes snapped open and though he couldn't see his ears, he could feel them. They ... they weren't his ears. His could feel the different shape... the hair... his hands jumped to his lower back, and once again Sam was met with an unfamiliar form, and a patch of hair.

More moose features. Fucking great.

He shuddered, hoping these were the only changes...

It was worse than a nightmare. Normal nightmares, anyway. Dean watched in helpless horror as his brother was mangled by an animalistic transformation. He was secretly grateful when Castiel's gigantic hand reached up and wrapped around him, blocking the last minute from view. The angel stood, give one good shake to rid the plastic wings from the candy strips mutant Sam had shredded... With his bare hands, Dean recalled with a shudder.  
"Dean!" Castiel's voice and face suddenly bombarded him, making the tiny hunter fall back on his butt. "Are you -"  
"Peachy. But what-" dean immediately whirled around toward Sam. A disturbing mass of long, skinny limbs and a muscular furry frame was tangled up in its own feet. He watched as the thing tried to get to a standing position on the ground.  
"..Sam?"

This was just the cherry on the cake. His brother was officially a moose.

Sam struggled to stand. He legs were long and awkward, while his body seemed hulking in comparison. The lack of fingers was infuriating. Even though he had no use for them at the moment, it was still something that made his skin crawl... or more appropriately, his fur stand on end. A string of curses spilled from his lips as he failed once again to stand. He paused. He could _talk? _

The sight of a moose with a sailor mouth might have been comical to an external observer.  
"Now I've seen it all." Dean glanced up to share a look with Castiel, but he was staring fixedly at Sam. "Can you fix him?" Cas stepped up to the huge creature and stretched out a hand to Sam's head.  
Nothing happened.  
"I'm afraid I can't reverse the effects." He sighed.  
"It's permanent?!" Dean grabbed fistfuls of the trenchcoat. Castiel shook his head.  
"Until Gabriel sees fit. We're under his constant influence here."_  
_

Sam groaned, rolling to his side.

"I hate this game."

There was so much about this form that he was uncomfortable with, the main thing being he couldn't hold Dean. He felt like it was his duty... his responsibility, and now he couldnt even do that.

In a scrambling motion, Sam was finally able to come to a stand. He was used to being seen as large, but this... this was quite a bit more than he was accustomed to. He stared down at Castiel, and his brow furrowed... or at least it felt as if it did. He avoided looking at Dean, partially due to embarrassment, mostly due to the fact he knew how large he must seem to his minuscule brother.

''Lets get this over with. The sooner we finish, the sooner I get back to normal."

Both Dean and Castiel stared even harder at the moose-er, Sam- when he spoke. So much weird in one sitting... Dean tried to look at him more but he wasn't exactly easy on the eyes. Or the nose.  
Finally, they shook themselves from their stupor and started back onto the scattered licorice path. The sky overhead remained overcast, but no longer as ominous. The licorice curse appeared to be broken.

"Maybe we can make a deal with him." Dean suggested as they carried on. "He likes deals."

Sam snorted, hating how animalistic it sounded.

"What do we even have to offer?" Though he addressed Dean, Sam eyes remained focused on his feet... or hooves... as he tried to make his steps less cumbersome.

Dean could hear the despondency in his brother's voice. He hated being small- more than any reason was how helpless he was. He couldn't help Sam or even give him a slap of reassurance.  
"Cas. Set me over.. on Sam." He said quietly.

Sam felt his ears twitch at the words. He was nervous about his lack of sure footedness as is, adding Dean into the equation wasn't his ideal. His head shot up to protest, but seeing the determined look that contrasted Dean's small body, Sam felt as if he was forced to comply.

Dean wobbled immediately when placed on Sam's head, so he wisely took a seat between the base of his left antler and ear. He wrapped an arm around the antler to steady himself.

"Who needs the shower now?" Dean nudged him behind the ear. Partially because he really did smell like an authentic moose. And second because he needed to hear more confirmation that it really was his brother in there.

Sam ear twitched from the contact with Dean.

"Not another word." Groaned Sam, trying to keep his head steady. Gabriel was going to pay for this. This was humiliation at its finest, and while Sam didn't know how, he knew he was going to get back at the angel.

Dean patted his moose-brother behind the ear, giving him a little rub if encouragement.  
"Hang in there." He muttered.

A few times as they left the woods, he could have sworn he heard a man laughing. But the others didn't seen to hear it, and soon enough the thought was replaced by their bizzare surroundings. They followed a red licorice trail up to a long rainbow bridge. If that wasn't queer enough, they had to wrestle their way through a thick jungle of nerd ropes. Dean was kicking them off Sam's fur for the next half hour.

Dean looked over at Castiel over the arching antler. The angel was staring intently at the ground, as if each step took great concentration.

"What's on your mind, Cas?"

The angel's bright eyes flashed to Dean, burning with intensity,

"I feel useless here, Dean," Begins the angel flatly. "While I'm walking in circles in this wretched place, battles are ongoing." Cas was visibly agitated.

"Sorry to drag you along." said Dean.

Castiel sighed and looked over at the tiny hunter. "It's... not that I'm not happy to help, Dean. But I don't see how I'm any good to you here."  
Dean stood and climbed a little higher on the antler so he could look down at Castiel from a more clear angle.  
"Saved my ass from those licorice devils back there." Dean pointed out. Castiel gave him a look.  
"That was hardly my doing."

Sam snorted, glancing sideways at the angel,

"You saved Dean's ass more than just once since you got dragged into this mess." Adds Sam, while simultaneously hating that it wasn't himself who'd saved Dean. "You healed him when he was poisoned, remember?"

Castiel conceded their point, but he was still very quiet for the next thirty minutes. Dean gave up on trying to get him to be chatty. Sam wasn't much better- and admittedly, talking to a moose was almost as weird as when he had to ride in the Sam incarnation of the Impala.

"No way." As they rounded the corner of a hill, Dean leaned forward. There was an incredible view of a crystalline lake, icecream mounds forming a dam in the west. And in the distance, was a castle.

"Dude, it's candy castle!" Dean chuckled in disbelief. He nudged the side of Sam's furry head with the toe of his boot.  
"You think they'll have the princess with a lollipop bra in there?"

Sam was about to tell his brother to dream on, but he reminded himself that he was a moose, in candy land, with a 6 inch tall brother, and that they were dealing with a trickster arch angel, so ladies clad in candy was not that far fetched.

"And what would you do with a lady ten times your size?" chuckled Sam, as he imagined his brother attempting to seduce someone at his current stature.

Dean's enthralled smile drops at the edges as this realization smacks him head-on. Oh yeah...  
He recovered quickly, giving a thoughtful shrug. "I'm willing to try the kinky stuff." He convinced himself of new possibilities for his candy land fantasy, and those sinful thoughts raised his spirits.

Sam had stopped at the edge of the crystalline lake. Dean was about to ask what the hold up was, but then noticed the subtle way it shimmered. It wasn't normal water. Who knew what would happen if they stepped foot in it. Then again, there wasn't much around to be used as a raft..  
"Cas." Dean said,standing and strutting to the tip of the antler he sat upon. "Put me down, would ya?"

There was only one way to find out.


	13. Chapter 13

As Castiel complies, Sam puts himself between Dean and the lake.

"I know what you're thinking, and no, thats not a good idea."

Castiel kneels, hovering over Dean, his eyes flashing between the two brothers, confused,

"I'm not sure I follow."

This doesn't deter Dean in the slightest. (Though holy CRAP he didn't know mooses...Meese, whatever, could possibly be this enormous!) he marched right under Sam diagonally so he was standing on the bank, at least three feet away from both of them. He was actually very grateful for the space, though if Sam had his way that wouldn't last long. He turned on his heel to face Castiel first, then higher up to Sam's bulky head.  
"Look, you guys were roofied by flowers. A lollipop gave you Barbie wings- and you antlers. I got a bad acid trip from a piece of pie. And this..." He threw a hand up towards his moose brother. "I don't even know how THIS happened. But odds are, Gabe's spiked the lake, too."  
"Dean!" This time Castiel reached for him? But it was too late. Dean waded in waist deep and turned over his shoulder.  
"I'm already a happy meal toy, Cas. I can only go up from here," he reasoned aloud.

No. No. No. Sam was having a fit prancing back and forth at the edge. He wanted fingers. Now.

"Dean!" he shouted. The noise came out with exhasperated... adn sounded disturbingly similar to a whinny. Of all the dumb things his brother could do... this was by far the dumbest. For reasons Sam couldn't fathom, he rose up on his hind legs, sending his body crashing down. The moose-likeness seemed to become instinctual the more he became frustrated.

Sam leaned as far as he was able, which was almost close enough for him to grab Dean. The thought of him needing to use his mouth terrified him, but he was easily able to overlook it as he thought about all the strangeness that wading in the water could lead to. He just needed to get Dean close enough to grab...

"Dean, don't be stupid," we can figure something out, Sam looked down at his brother, unable to see anything different, but... maybe the water was sparkling more around him? Sam couldn't quite tell... was the water becoming more reflective all of the sudden, or maybe he was just being paranoid...

The tremors rippled through the water. A shadow darkened his view, and Dean whirled to see what was one of the most disturbing views in his life. He yelped and fell back into the lake. He resurfaced a mere moment later, looking up at the same worried faces.  
"There's a reason animal planet doesn't film in 3-D." He coughed, wiping water from his eyes, now standing chest deep.

"Dude, chill. I'm fine." ..And still tiny. A part of him had really, really hoped he would get lucky and return to his normal size. Heck, he wasn't beginning to look back on worrying over a miniature Sam with rose colored glasses.

"It's clean guys." He gave the all-clear with a hefty sigh of disappointment, lowering his eyes to the water at the feet.

Same hastily tested the water with a hoof. The whole situation seemed suspicious. He didn't like it. Nor did he like the idea of Dean swimming. With a sigh, Sam folded his legs beneath him, lowering himself as much as possible. He dipped his head infront of Dean, angling it sideways so his brother could used his antlers to get himself up.

"Get on," groaned Sam. His eyes flashed towards the angel who regarded the water with curiosity. "You too Cas,"

Castiel frowned, watching Dean wade over and grab ho of the antler. Did the younger winchester really think he would be able to carry him on his other antler? That was just ridiculous. He did them both a favor and awkward straddled Sam's back. This was extremely uncomfortable. Dean caught sight if the odd expression on the angel's huge face overhead and snorted In agreement. Now facing forward on the antler, dean felt a chill from his soaking clothes. Impatiently, he slapped the bony structure he sat upon.  
"Come on, Mush!" Dean commanded.

Sam pursed his lips as much as his moosey-form would let him. Standing wasn't an easy task without passengers.. now with the added weight he was almost certain he'd topple over. Though, surprising both himself and his riders, he manged to come to a stand. The farther he walked into the water, the easier it was. His body seemed to let instinct do the work, and soon, he was swimming with ease.

Dean gripped the antler for dear life as it quaked with Sam's tentative steps. For a moment, he was sure that He had taken on too much, and would fall over. But Sam proved him wrong. He looked over at Sam's face. While it was harder to read his expression like this, dean recognized a familiar glint of determination in those glassy brown eyes. It reminded him so much of himself, he had to look away.  
"Halfway there. Keep it up." He shouted.

Sam attempted to grunt a reply, but he was having a hard enough time keeping his head out of the water. Though, he wasn't sure it was actually water... He swore it had to be carbonated or something, as his skin seemed to prick and tingle as he paddled to the edge. Almost there...

It was was a rocky ride, accompanied by face fils of water every few strokes. At first he thought he was just bumping into the ridge of the antler, but soon it was apparent that it wasn't him- the antler was compressing. "Whoa-" Dean murmured. He followed it to the base. The antler was shrinking back bit by bit, leaving him less and less room to sit on.  
"Sa-am!" He tried talking over the bumpy ride, half-crawling, half running towards his head. The brown fur remained for now, but it receded from the ears, seeming to translate around into longer, shinier locks.

By the time they washed up to shore, Castiel was piggybacking a human Sam, and Dean's legs were tangled in his wet hair.

"Shit Dean!" yelled Sam, his voice raising an octave from the mixture of relief of returning to normal, and discomfort from Dean yanking wildly at his hair.

Setting Cas down, Sam attempted to untangle Dean from his hair to no avail.

"Dean!" Growled Sam, "Stop squirming!"

"Get your stupid hands out of my face!" Dean sputtered back. Sam kept turning his head, back Dean clung harder to the hair as he was bounced and rocked between open air and humongous fingers.

Between aggravated shouts and curses, Sam managed to turn to Cas, "A little help here?"

"NO!" Dean barked, fixing a minature death glare at Castiel. The angel froze with his hand halfway outstretched. "You and your giant hand stay OUT of this." He hesitated then, his green eyes noting the lack of plastic wings on Cas' back. So Castiel and Sam got cleansed by the magic lake. But he remained six inches high and thoroughly useless.

"Just...Fucking fantastic..." He hissed to himself as he reached for the strands of hair cutting into his blue jeans. Gabriel's smirk floated into mind, making his actions a bit more aggressive. A few more yanks and impatient detangling, and he was free. But not without a few more yelps of pain from Sam in the process.

"Pussy." Dean accused him with a roll of the eyes.

"Am I allowed to take you down?" barked Sam sarcastically, "Or are my stupid hands not allowed that close?"

Sam immediately regretted his spitefully shot at Dean, he knew all too when how uncomfortable it was to have a massive set of digits too close for comfort.

Heat rose to his little face.  
"Just get me down from here before I decide to make you a bald spot."

Not wanting any added hair pulling, Sam placed his hands at the front of his head before tilting his head forward to help Dean debark. As his brother slid into his hands, Sam eyed the not so distant castle in attempt to estimate the distance.

"Doesn't look much more than 10 minutes away..."

"Then let's get a move on." Dean said. Not long after, he put a hand to his head. "Hey, drop me in your pocket, will you? Your hands are all sweaty." He added the insult as a way to justify himself.

Sam grumbled a snark comment before complying, gently tilting his hand so Dean could slide directly into his breast pocket. Castiel watched the whole procedure silently, his eyes follwing Dean with such an air of protectiveness it made Sam feel uncomfortable.

Sam walked at a brisk pace, following the road paved with giant suckers, shining brightly under the light of the sun. This world was so strange, and the sooner he could leave this diabetic dream, the better.

As he rounded a particularly large bush of cotton candy, Sam came face to face with a site that made his heart sink. Another challenge sign.

Though, different from the others this one had a table infront of it with a stack of cards. The instructions that layed on the table seemed simple enough, but Sam knew that nothing in this crazy world could be easy. As he read the instructions, it was almost as if he could hear Gabriel reading it to them,

"Pick a card. Or not. You're choice. It could come in handy. Or it could give you a hard time. One of them could change Dean back to normal. Another could give you his place. Only rule is one card each. Good luck."

Sam stared down at the deck and swallowed hard. Dean didnt need to know. He could fix Dean on his own... He could take the first card... Dean was already having enough problems...

The swift swaying motion of Sam's steps threw dean to the bottom. But it was darker in here. A bit damp, but then again Dean himself was sopping wet still. A faint amount of body heat seeped into the pocket. That, combined with the rhythm of walking, lulled him into a semi-doze.

Dean replayed his dream in his head,'looking for any hint that the archangel might have given away. But there was nothing... Nothing but dead ends every which way he twisted it.  
The only thing he was getting out of this is that he was a burden on the people he cared about. Useless for anything but hunting. A tool.

The dull thudding slowed to a halt. Sam's heart picked up its tempo, hammering against Dean's back. He sat up and leaned away from it, but frowned.  
"What's the hold up?" He shouted up towards the pocket flap.

"Theres a-" Castiel was interrupted by Sam's glare. Dean didn't need to know. He could fix his brother for once. Not the other way around.  
"Its nothing Dean," began Sam as he placed his hand over the deck, "just, um, taking a break."

"Yeah, well, your heart's a freaking jackhammer right now." Dean waited for some type of response- a scoff, a poke... Something. But he got nothing. Curious and more than a little suspicious, he got to his feet and started climbing to the top of the pocket.

Sam grabbed the lip of his pocket and jostled it so Dean would fall back into the depths of the fabric.

"Don't worry about it Dean I'm just tired." Castiel shot a disaproving glare towards the younger Winchester, but did nothing to stop him as his hands spread out the deck of cards. He could only pick one... he couldn't mess this up...

His hands wrapped around a card...

"What the HELL was THAT?!" Dean bellowed from within the pocket. That had been deliberate! His cheeks were red with embarrassment and outrage. And though he wouldn't admit it, a little claustrophobic now that his solitude had been turned into a prison. For a moment , that helpless feeling threatened to overwhelm him.

Knife.  
He had a Pocketknife. He had lost his sturdier blade inhe licorice woods, but his Switchblade would have to do. With hasty, rushed motions, Dean pulled yr the knife and began sawing away at the bottom hem of the thick fabric.

Taking a deep breath Sam shut his eyes and flipped the card over. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see if he'd done the right thing or not. He didn't think he could handle another mistake, but the energy that crackled around in the air suggested that something was happening. He only hoped it want happening to him.

Dean cut a hole in the pocket big enough to fit through. His arm was burning from the effort, but it paid off. He pocket the knife, and leaned down to figure out how to lower himself down. It wasn't gonna be easy, climbing down his hulk of a brother. Suddenly, strategy was useless; a slight movement from Sam sent him careening forward, through the hole and free falling towards the ground. He grappled for the jacket fabric, but it was falling too fast. This was it. How it was going to end. He covered his head with his arms as he ground became imminent-  
He landed with a loud smack on the ground. "DAMMIT.." He groaned. He was hurt, but not nearly as much as he should have been. Opening his eyes, he saw Sam's shoes... Only they didn'ttake up nearly as muh of his vision as before. No way! His heart raced with hope as a grin lit up his face. He leapt to his feet and felt the residual tingling of energy in the air. He laughed out loud, grinning nearly eye to eye with Sam.

Sam blinked a few time before gripping his brother in a tight hug.

"Dean!" Laughed Sam burying his face in his brother's shoulder. He felt the last of the tingling energy dissipate into the air around them. He'd done it! He'd gotten Dean back to normal he'd- A darkness fell upon him and Sam lifted his head to see one of the disappointing things he'd ever witnessed.

He's fucked up.

Big time.

A clouds rolled in overhead, blocking out the sun. But that wouldn't run his good mood. Dean's laugh petered out as Sam pulled away.  
"Geez, Don't look so excited, Sammy..." He chided. "I know I'm adorable, but..." he realized Sam wasn't looking at him. And the shadow over the road looked more like... A man, rather than a cloud. He pivoted on his heel and felt his heart sink to his shoes. Castiel looked over both of them like a gigantic guardian angel, a halo-like glow from the sun behind him.

"What did you..?" Dean spotted a piece of paper Lyon on the ground a few feet away. He marched up to it and turned it over. There was a picture of Gabriel kicking back in a loud chair, kicking back and smiling. In a little decorative speech bubble, the card read, "Ring any bells?"

Sam groaned and took a step back, both from his brother and from the angel looming overhead. He screwed up. He screwed up his one chance of getting Dean back to normal. His one chance at being the one to help his brother... and now he'd become a handicap in the process.

"Dean..." Started Sam,

"This is what you were doing?" Dean cut him off inmediately, temper flaring as he whirled on Sam. "You shoved me down so you could pull from the chance deck? What, do you think I'm stupid?"

"Dean, its not like that!" shouted Sam, "I didn't want you drawing the card!"

He heard the fabric of Castiel's ruffle as the angel bent down between the two of them.

"Why?" Dean asked. The elder brother side-stepped to jab a finger at Sam over the shoe separating them. He glanced upward, wondering how muc time they had to hash it out before Castiel decided to cal a timeout. Dean marched around, away from Cas and towards Sam. "Seriously, Sam. Why?"

Sam walked with long strides over to his brother,  
"Because you already had all of this," Sam gestured to his body, "going on! I know you Dean, you wouldn't have let me draw the first card... maybe not any! I had to take a shot. This was my chance to get you back to normal..."

Dean clenched his jaw and sent the full force of his glare at him. It made him feel inadequate again. But, as he let up with a world-weary sigh, he knew that Sammy didn't mean if that way. The last thing they needed to do have it out in candy land. It was probably what Gabriel wanted, anyway.  
He drug a hand over his face and clammed up. "It's fine." He said quietly, even though his tone read as anything but.

"Enjoying the show up there?" Dean called up to Castiel. The angel pursed his lips.

"Should I draw a card ?" Asked the angel eyeing Sam curiously. Sam looked downwards. Now Cas would be forced to clean up his mess... or make things worse. Either scenario knotted his stomach.

"Take the deck." Dean piped up. Castiel gave him a surprised look, then slowly joined in his train of thought. He stood and stepped right over the brother to retrieve the deck and silently tuck it away in his breast pocket.

"We don't need anymore crazy in the bowl right now to throw us off our game. But if the chips get low... Both Cas and I get a card." Dean finished with a shrug.

Sam felt his face get red... he should have thought of that. Why hadn't he done the same?

"We should keep going..." mumbled Sam, taking a step towards Cas. The size didn't bother him as much this time. He hoped it was due to the fact he at least had Dean at the same size, and not because he was getting used to it.

Castiel stooped down and picked up both brothers. He cupped his hands together so hey had a common platform beneath them as he walked.  
"If it makes you feel any better," both Winchesters looked up as Castiel spoke up. "This isn't much different than how humans are viewed from heaven."  
Sam and Dean exchanged bewildered looks.  
"Yeah, that uh, that's awesome. A load of of winged douchebags looking down on the world."

"Sam stared up at Castiel, who seemed at ease with the whole situation. For some reason the normalcy that Cas suggested annoyed him.

"Well here on earth this is pretty messed up."

"I understand." Cas replied, with a small empathetic smile. Dean gave him an "oh really?" Eyebrow raise. Castiel explained, "it's jarring to be united by a human vessel. Some choose never to adapt soley for that reason."

This placated Dean for now. He kept his eyes ahead. Focusing on something else made it easier to get over how disturbing it was that he was riding in Cas' single hand.

Sam leaned back, grateful for an opportunity to think. The silence was welcome, yet it only forced him to dwell on his failures. He messed up. All Dean's efforts to change him to normal had been dashed away by a careless action. Now he was useless...

"Do you hear that?" Dean said quietly, like they were stalking prey.

Castiel stopped walking and looked around for some sort of threat.

"Sounds like... Singing." Dean said. He leaned forward on the row of big fingers as the sound, like tinkling bells, ampified. The shimmering purple leaves around them provided no clues, but their answer came soon enough. A sugarplum fairy flitted up at a rocketing speed, stopping right in front of Dean. He fell back onto his butt, she came up so fast. She giggled, as he hastily got back to his feet. Shr smiled coyly and reached out to him, grazing his cheek with a pale lavender hand.

Sam stared wide eyed at the sight, cautiously reaching to the spot on his pants where his knife would be... if he had still had it.

"Dean..." Warned Sam cautiously, as he eyed the strange figure. Castiels hand moved closer towards him, but the fairy followed.

A second fairy flitted up beside her sister. This one was more pink rather than purple, and took notice of Sam. she landed right next to him on the hand like Castiel wasn't even there. She circled Sam with bell-like remarks and traced a glittery trail on his chest, batting long lashes at him. She as disrupted as Cas dumped Dean into the same hand as Sam and used the other to away at the nuisances.

"Shoo."

Sam blinked away the strange feeling that had taken over him when the fairy had drawn near. There was some magic at work, and he didn't like that. Helping Dean to his feet, he regarded his brother with concern,

"You good?"

"Yeah I'm good.. But man! You see the size of the rack on that one?" He replied dazedly. Dean looked not at Sam, but rather past him. The purple fairy came back for him, hovering just beyond the edge of the fingertips. Brushing past his brother, Dean walked forward without hesitation, that dreamy look in his eyes. She smiled lovingly, and Dean was ready to walk right off the hand into open air, had the hand not tilted backwards at the last second.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, grabbing his brother by the back of the shirt to avoid him crawling of the edge again. Sam averted his eyes from the fairies. He wanted to look. He wanted to touch. He wanted the fairies to touch him! But the magic hadn't seemed to have affected him as much as his brother. While his mind was foggy, rational thought still beat heavy in his mind.

"Dean snap out of it!"

Dean wrestled to get free from his grip. "Why d'you gotta cockblock me?" He elbowed him hard in the gut, finally loosening his brother's grip enough to spring loose. He hopped over Sam's doubled-over form and bounded over to his fairy. Castiel picked up his pace and boxed the humans in with his second hand. Dean pounded on the fleshy wall. The fairies narrowed their eyes at Castiel. The jingled turned into a vicious hum, like a swarm of bees. He turned around and saw dozens upon dozens more. In a last resort attempt to save his occupants, Cas cupped the boys to himself as he outstretched his other hand. A bright blue light turned white with brightness, blinding all within range.

When it faded and he released the brothers, there was only a pile of ash where the swarm had once been.

Sam stared up in awe at Castiel. It was easy to forget how powerful he really was.

"Dean... You okay?" He tentatively addressed his brother.

"How's your spleen?" Dean redirected with a question of his own as the fog cleared and he was left with the memory of attacking his own brother.

Sam half smiled upon seeing his brother turn to his normal self. As the adrenaline faded, along with the fairy magic, he notices to true weight of Dean's words. The pain crept on him slowly, like a weight was being pressed on his gut. Sam grimaced.

"Pretty damn sore." He admitted.

"Put some ice on it later." Dean's eyes flashed with guilt as he glanced toward the offended area, not noticing the elevation change until he turned around and- "HOLY-"

Cas' face was right there. Huge blue eyes seared into his soul as he scanned him for injury or residual effects from the fairies. "I'm sorry for scaring you." ,Castiel said evenly. He lowered them again as he contjnued walking ata quickened pace- still dreadfully inefficient by his standards.  
"We're almost there." He announced.

Sam gulped. This seemed like they were leading up to a big showdown... the all or nothing. As the looming form of the candy castle drew closer the feeling was only strengthened.

"Cas, you're probably going to need both hands..."

Castiel looked on ahead. He was able to see clearly despite the distance.  
"Sam's right." He said, looking down at them as he moved the hand towards his left breast pocket of the trenchcooat. "We should all be on-guard."

To their right, the chocolatey moat bubbled thoughtfully, seeming to flow at its own pace.

As the pair slid into the pocket, Sam felt himself shoving at Dean in order to fit properly. The pocket had seemed so roomy when it was fit for one, nevermind the deck of cards that took up a great Dean of space,

"Dean! Move over." Groaned Sam as he tried to claim a spot for himself.

"Watch it!" Dean grunted as Sam's boot collided with his stomach. Karma was a bitch. During their struggle, the deck behind them began to shift. Dean stopped trying to get some elbow room and plastred his back against the first card.

No more surprises. For the love of everything dear in the world... No more surprises.

But with their luck? Not a chance.


	14. Chapter 14

Sam cocked his head. There was a strange humming noise coming from outside the pocket. Low, almost rumpling, the sound pulsated.

"Cas...?" Sam called, attempting to peek out of the pocket. A giant finger pushed him back into the dark confines.

"Stay there." The angel's voice was commanding, and paired with the previous gesture, mildly insulting.

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam. Not quite an 'I Toldja so' about the whole getting shoved down by a finger thing but... Admittedly, it was damn satisfying to see the disgruntled look on Sam's face after getting a taste of his own medicine.

Keeping his leg against the base of the deck, Dean pulled out his switch blade again and chiseled a little peephole for himself in the front of the pocket. He shut the knife, then tossed it over to Sam so he could do the same.

As Sam began to saw himself a hole, Castiel suddenly was on the move. The pocket was jostled and Sam was sent tumbling into Dean. Thankfully the knife had landed in such a way that it shut itself, offering a small bit of luck to the brothers.

The noise seemed to grow louder, pusating faster and faster...

Dean muttered a "get off" and rolled out from under his little bro. They both huddled near his little hole. Every other step sent them swinging backwards a way, but they adjusted.  
"The hell..?" Dean breathed. He leaned back so Sam could peek after a while. "Get a load of this."

The muddy moat had been stalking them for the last ten mjnutes. Now that they were nearly upon the bedazzled front gates, it was gathering consciousness and taking form as some sort of drippy humanoid monster.

Sam pursed his lips.

"This is ridiculous..." Eyeing the cards, and then the strange creature, Sam shouted up to Cas,

"You think you can handle this?"

Blue eyes flickered downward for the briefest of seconds.

"Gabriel may have grounded me here, but I am not useless." Castiel's voice came above and around them. The slightly annoyed tone was hard to miss.

"Sheesh, someone's touchy." Dean shared a look with Sam in the darkness. A bloodcurdling screech broke through the air. Castiel stood strong, center in the gateway to the towering candy castle. The chocolate fudge creature rose up To a daunting height, then dove, tendrils outstretched for the angel.

"Hold on," Sam warned Dean, as he backed away from the hole,  
"And keep your hand on a card..." whispered Sam, "Just in case."

The impact was hard. Unable to tell which way was up, let alone if it was Castiel moving, or the creature attacking, Sam only concern at the moment was keeping himself from being jostled out of the pocket.

Dean gave a short nod. It was all he could do, as the world suddenly tipped sideways. They were jolted up, back, side to side, and quite painfully into each other at times. Whatever it was, it was putting up a heck of a fight. Castiel was praying as he fought. To his big brother; that he give up his petty battle and listen to the truth. Gabriel seemed to ignore him.

From inside the pocket, Sam could feel Castiel's muscles tense. The air crackled with energy, and the scent of burning chocolate.

He slammed into Dean after a sharp jerk from Castiel jostled him for his position. He heard Castiel's breathing become harsh, as he muttered a muffled "How?"

"Gabriel! Let them go. Taking advantage of the weak is not our father's will. You know this!"

Dean frowned. Who was he calling weak?

In reply the fudge monster released its grip on Castiel's neck, instead gripping his ankle and hoisting him high into the air. The pocket's contents shifted ground ward, cards fluttering to the ground in a flurry.

"Sam!" Dean stabbed the knife into the back of the pocket and lunged with his freehand to catch his brother from sliding out.

"Dean! The cards!" Sam held Dean's arm with all the strength he could muster, but he knew neither of them would be able to hold on for long.

"Brother!" Roared Castiel, "Stop this!"

The knife, weighed by the collaborative weight of both brothers, cut through more fabric. They jerked lower, dangling dangerously over the ground. Dean watched the last card fall. As it did, he got a look at the flipside: it was a "Get out of jail free" card.

Close enough. It had to be. Gritting his teeth, Dean took a leap of faith and released the knife. He lunged for the card and just barely grabbed the edge, refusing to let go of Sam's hand as they plunged downward.

Complete silence and darkness dropped upon his senses like an anvil.

He opened his eyes on a cold tile floor, somewhere inside a building. There wasn't much in the room that could be attributed to his current scale with the exception of a clock embeedded into the floor. Odd. He picked himself up and looked around for Sam or Castiel. They had both been falling beside him moments ago, but he was definitely alone now.

"Sammy?"

There was a humming in Sam's ears, and as he tried to sit up, he found his body unresponsive. While the concept of the thought was terrifying, Sam was in a state of calm, with little caring. He felt fine, yet, he knew he should feel, scared, pain... something! But nothing... just a clear head.

Sam wasn't sure how long he'd stayed in the strange state. Upon regaining movement, Sam opened his eyes, and was greeted with an unfamiliar surronding, and a distant voice calling his name. It sounded muffled, as if it were through a wall...

"Dean? Is that you?"

"Hey! Yeah, it's me.." Dean instantly was reignited with new vigor athe sound of his brother's familiar voice. He didn't even consider the possibility it was a trick as he looked around the room, looking for some sort of door. No doors... There was a pile of boxes in the corner. A bit large, but not obnoxiously so. A window! Just the one. He went over to it, but it appeared someone had painted it completely white on the other side, and no viewable claps to open it. supremely unhelpful. He slammed his fist against the glass in frustration.  
"Sammy, keep talking to me. You still hear me? What are you seeng?"

Sam blinked a few times, scrunching his eyes.

"Its dim in here," he says, as his eyes adjust, Sam can feel a scowl form on his face, "Dude, it looks like a little kids room..."

As Sam eyes the room with confusion and distaste, he notices that the room is catered to his size... or almost. Everything is just slightly too big.

"Well it beats being sealed in.. I'm gonna have to hulk through the wall at this rate." Dean grumbled, pacing over to where he thought Sam's voice was coming from. It was hard to tell. He paused. "Any doors or windows in there?"

"There's a door," started Sam, walking towards it, "but... I can't reach the handle..."

"There's gotta be something you can use. I've got a couple boxes on my end..." He trailed off as he walked over to the mentioned boxes and looked inside. There was a little plastic dollhouse in the first one. Useless, and reminded him of how he could probably have for into that not even half an hour ago. He shoved it aside and opened the next, praying for a shot gun.

Sam was about to ask Dean if Cas was with him when he heard a strange noise. It was loud, but muffled. Sam couldnt place the noise with any memories... Though, it sounded like it had came from above him.

As Dean spoke, his voice became more clear, less muffled, as if a layer of wall and been peeled off.

"Dean?" Called Sam. "What did you just do?"

Dean raised his head and looked around. At this point in the trickster's mind games, he was half-expecting to see the walls melt away by a hidden trigger word or something. But nothing had changed.

"Just opened up the first two boxes. Nothing but a couple of cheap toys and packing peanuts so far." He nudged the offending box with the toe of his boot.

He bent down, picking up the light box of foam packing material easily and starting on the next. Then the faint concern in Sam's voice fully sank in. Something could be unfolding with Sammy and he couldn't do a thing to prevent it. "Why? What happened?" Dean demanded.

"You didn't hear that?" asked Sam, more of a statement than a question, as he dragged a chair towards the door. "..Any idea what happened to Cas?"

"No sign of him. Once we figure out where the hell you and I are, we'll find him, Sammy."

Dean sighed; The third box had a hammer... A little plastic one with a picture of bob the builder on it.  
"Dick move." He rolled his eyes towards the heavens, or wherever Gabriel was peeping from. Dean bumped a couple boxes a few inches out of the way with the toe of his boot and ran a hand down his face wearily. This was a friggin nightmare.

Turned out there was a whole toolkit along with the hammer- all plastic, dull, and infuriatingly cheerful-looking. No help getting out of the doorless room. The hope that there might be an end to these freaky trials, or at least a point to them, seemed further than ever. Dean sat down amidst the boxes and slid down to lean against the wall. His body and mind were exhausted, but the drive to protect his little brother kept him alert.

Heaving himself up onto the slightly-too-big chair, Sam was just about able to reach the handle. As Sam grabbed the handle, the noise came back, accompanied with his world shaking slightly. Steadying himself on the chair Sam reached for the handle again. It wouldn't budge.

"Did you feel that?" asked Sam, surprised his brother hadn't reacted to the mini earthquake.

"Sam, I dunno where the heck Gabe stashed you, but there's nothing going on over here. Zilch." he caught a glimpse of the dollhouse next to him and angrily shoved the box away from him. It bumped into the other boxes of useless crap a few feet away.

Sam yelped as his world seemed to shift. He tumbled off the chair, landing awkwardly on his side.

"What the hell was that?!" Shouted Sam, as he attempted to stand. He moved slowly, unsure if he would face another mini earthquake.

Dean raised his head. Sam's voice had just moved. To the right, now. Dread pooled as his eyes landed on the box he had shoved around.

_Did you feel that? _Sam's words echoed in his mind. That head been after he had nudged the box with his shoe. And now... Swallowing, Dean crawled over to first box and looked down at the little plastic roof.  
"Uh... What type of room did you say you were in?"

Deans voice seemed closer now, and Sam hoped that his brother had figured something out, as he was still confused.  
"It's... well it's like a little kids room," started Sam, not sure what his brother wanted him to say. "Pretty dark, too..."

Dean practically winced. From the sound of the voice coming back at him, he was in the right spot. Sam wasn't far away; he was just really small... Again.

"Yeah I bet..." Dean muttered under his breath. "Hang on, Sammy."  
He steeled his nerves and slid his hands under the doll house on each side. He picked it up, feeling every quiver of its weight until he set it on the ground. He pushed the boxes aside to make room for him to lie down on his stomach facing the front of the plastic playhouse. Taking note of the scale of the little pink front door... only about three and a half inches. If Sam couldn't reach the doorknob... A chill ran down Dean's spin as he mentally pictured how miniscule Sam must be. He wasn't sure he could handle this.

He wedged a fingernail under a window shutter on the second floor. One by one, he opened all the windows and waited for a sound from Sam.

Light bleed into the room. So there was a window? Sam blinked until his vision started to clear up. The room looked... wrong. It wasn't the fact that everything was big... nor was it the fact that the entire room seemed to be decorated with a moose theme...

He couldn't quite identify the problem... everything looked odd. Out of place... almost as if everything was a replica of the real thing. As Sam moved towards the window, he dragged a chair along with him. It was surprisingly light considering its size.

"Dean?" Called Sam, as he stepped onto the chair in order to see out of the window. "What's going on?"

An absolutely miniscule head of head popped up over the edge of the window, on the second floor. He rested his chin on his arms, holding his breath. Dean's mouth went dry when more of Sam came into view. A massive green eye blinked and dilated in front of the window.

"Son of a bitch.." Dean breathed.

"Fuck," breathed Sam, taking a step back. Instinct clicked. He'd been small before, but this? No. Not happening. This can't be happening. Another step back sent Sam tumbling off the chair.


	15. Chapter 15

"Sam!" Dean's deep exclamation made the little plastic window shutters quiver. He pressed his face up against the side of the house with one eye peering into the window Sam had just fallen away from. He finally spotted the tiny man lying in a heap on the floor. He was so small, he could barely make out the expression on his face.

"Holy shit Dean!" Yelled Sam, as his brother closed in, his words came out in a quick stutter as he felt the all too familiar fear settle in. Scrambling to back up and stand up at the same time, Sam ended up tumbling a few more times before he could stand. Dean's enormous eye blocked the window, making the emerald pool all that was visible.

"Space," breathed Sam, worried he would start hyperventilating, "I need space."

Dean immediately backed off, and filtered light returned through the open window. He drug a hand over his face, ready to tear his hair out from sheer frustration.  
"But I... The card..." Dean remembered clearly it had said "reset" on it. But... That didn't make sense, given the current arrangements. He shook his head. "I didn't ask for _this._"

"We'll figure it out, Dean," shouted Sam, trying to comfort himself as much as he tried to comfort Dean. "But," He sighed throwing up a hand, trying to take in his brother's size. "One thing at a time."

Taking in deep breaths, he could feel his heart beat slow. Good. As the silence crept up on them, an idea occurred to Sam. A terrifying idea.  
"Dean... Is Cas," he paused, trying to word the question, "Is Cas in any of the other rooms?"

"If he is, he's not making a fuss about about it."  
The smallest sound of Dean's shirt and jacket crumpling as he craned his neck lower was now amplified to an almost alien loudness for the younger Winchester. Dean started to peer into each room with one big green eye. He did a double take when he recognized the kitchen on the first floor as the one from his childhood. Complete with a half drunk sippie cup of chocolate milk. It made his blood boil to know Gabriel had been digging around in his personal memories.

It would be so much easier if Sam could move around the house on his own... But the dude couldn't even open the door. Dean noticed a line running along he side of the house and straightened up. It was a hinge.

"Hold tight, Sammy. I'm about to open it up." He waited a second to give Sam time to brace himself. Then he pulled. The whole plastic house gave a jolt as it opened up along a seam down the middle.

The feeling of the house splitting was incredibly sickening. Omitting the fact that the whole motion made Sam feel dizzy, it was more so the fact that his brother was so big, or he was so small... that he could easily move the house. Sam grasped the chair for support as he took in a deep breath. He felt pathetic, but more than that, he was tired. Tired of this whole mess.

Remembering which room Sam was in, Dean pinched the teeny plastic doorknob from the inside. It took a while of rattling and a few muttered "dammit!"s before his big fingers finally got a good grip on the doorknob. The tiny door swung open.

"Do you want to come out?" Dean rumbled quietly. "I'm not dying to get my hands on you persay, but just gimme a sign you're still kicking."

Embarrased by his lacking stature, Sam avoided Dean's eyes as he made his way to the drop off by the door. Dean was big.

Huge.

Massive.

Sam breathed in sharply. It continued to get worse.

"The sooner we get out of this mess, the better..."

Dean just stared, mouth agape as the microscopic version of his brother talked. He could hear him... Whichever was crazy in and of itself. He could Barely see those tiny lips moving.

Dean looked around at the room, then at his brother. Then he did a double take. Where the wall had been blank, there was now a black door.  
"I think I found us a way out of here." Dean whispered. Very, very slowly, he moved his hand up to the edge of the platform.

Sam pursed his lips. His distaste for being carried was stronger than ever. Taking in a deep breath Sam stepped into the massive palm. The heat that rose from Dean's skin was nauseating. Forget getting back to his old size, he would settle for his prior size of six inches.

Sam could feel Dean's hand tremble under his step. The thought worried him, Dean had always been dextrous and agile with his hands, and to see him strugglr to keep his palm steady... that in itself was terrifying

As he glanced at the drop, Sam groaned. Too high. Heights had never been a major issue for him, but his new size would soon change that.

"D-dude," stuttered Sam, looking up towards Dean as he grasped his thumb for support, "Pocket, please."

Dean finally clamped his mouth shut and managed a weak nod. He swallowed as Sam shifted his barely perceptible weight, the sound more audible to tiny Sam than he knew.  
As fragile as Sam had been at six inches... That had been hard enough. Now a frown was slowly tattooing itself onto Dean's face- afraid to even breath too deeply, lest he inhale his own brother.

With painstaking care to his movements, the hunter sat up and spread open the pocket of his shirt. He wanted Sam closer this time, not where he could easily fall out. When he tilted his hand to lower him in, Sam when tumbling into the curve of his fingers.  
"Shit, I'm sorry!" He clenched his teeth so hard it hurt.

The tumble had came as more of a shock than actually painful. The skin was oddly spongy and soft, taking out the brute force of the impact. Shaking Sam rolled into a sitting position, flinching at the thunderous rumbling of his brother`s voice. He could feel Dean`s voice resound in his chest, a sensation that was absolutely terrifying.

I'm fine. Totally fine. Don't worry.

He wanted so badly to push out those words, to calm Dean... to calm himself, but his voice would catch in his throat upon each attempt. He was shaking. It wasn`t the fall. Nor the voice. It was the crushing weight of the world around him. His pitiful insignificance. It all seemed to attack him at once, building up into a heavy ball in the pit of his stomach.

His voice finally escaped his chest, sounding choked. No words fled his lips. To his surprise, he sobbed. Even if he could see through the rapidly forming tears that clouded his vision, Sam wouldnt have looked towards Dean. He was pathetic enough as is. No need to add to it.

Rare was the day when the brothers let the other know of a painful secret. Even rarer was seeing the other cry. It had been years since Sam had broken down in front of him, and here he was, falling to pieces in his very own hand.

Dean's heart shattered in an instant when he realized those tiny noises were. His Adam's apple bobbed and he tilted his head to the side, looking closer at him with an ever present self-blame for Sammy's pain. He waned to comfort him, but what could he do at this size?

"Hey... I've gotcha..." Chick flick moments disregarded, Sam was suddenly that little boy who came home from a sucky day at school. Dean hesitated, then lifted his hand closer to his neck, giving him a hug of sorts.

"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean murmured, afraid to deafen him. "I'm sorry I can't seem to get anything right here. Not like that's news to you, I guess... But I'm gonna fix this."

Dean`s comforting only made the tears flow harder. He was drowning in self loathing and desperation. He could care less about how he looked to Dean. He couldn't possibly think of him as any less.

Sam could only guess at what Dean was whispering to him. The sound came to low, too close, for him to make out. The rumbling that built up in Dean`s throat passed through Sam, a sensation that reminded him of his insignificance, yet also seemed oddly comforting.

Sam held tightly to what he assumed was one of Dean`s fingers, trying ridiculously to slow the continuous flow of tears.

"Dean..." Groaned Sam, still refusing to meet his gaze. No more words escaped his lips. He was done. He was torn between his desire for the much needed comfort, and his natural instinct to hide his emotions. He wanted so badly to crawl into the pocket and stay there until he awoke from this nightmare.

Dean clenched his eyes shut. Tiny pinpricks of pressure that could only be fingers nearly made him gasp. Dammit, Gabriel... What the fuck was his problem, screwing so bad with Sam anyways?

"I never meant to hurt you." A final, thundering whisper rattled through Sam's body before the house-sized hand began to move again. Soon enough, more features of Dean's face came into view, still uncomfortably close with the occasional breeze of warm exhalation. His eyes looked as helpless as he was angry.

Sam stared at his feet, as he sat Indian style on his older brothers immense palm. He couldnt look into those eyes. Those huge pools of devastation. He couldnt look at the magnified emotion that so rarely showed on his brother's face.

Rubbing his forearm to his eyes, the wave of tears slowed. He could practically hear the judgmental tone of his father's voice as it droned out the all too familiar order.

Take care of Sammy.

Dad was right. Dean always had to take care of him. Dean always had to fix his mess. Dean always had to take care of Sammy. Sam cleched his fists. He wished he had something to hit.

Though, something Dean had said struck Sam. The weight of his words seemed to clench his heart in an icy embrace.

"I never meant to hurt you."

Sams head snapped upwards. How could Dean pin this on himself? On shaky tired legs, Sam forced himself to stand,

"Dean... How can you -why would you think..." Sam wiped his eyes, and against his prior resolve, he made contact with the massive green eyes, "I'm okay Dean," spoke Sam, choking a bit on his words, "Its not your fault..."

"I picked the wrong card. I shoulda.." Dean trailed off and shook his head, trying to muffle a loud cough into his shoulder before it came out. He kept his eyes low for a moment, then looked back at the inch-high brother in his hand. He didn't know what to do. That was a certainty, and it was a heavy weight upon his shoulders. But he couldn't tell Sam that.  
"Listen, there's a door here. I'm going to move you down again so you can ride it out till I deep fry us an arch angel. Got it?" Emotions relaxed by a game face, Dean gave Sam a gentle look to be brave.

"You can't predict the out come of the tricks..." mumbled Sam... he sure as hell knew that. As he was lowered into the pocket Sam felt a certain kind of battle calm set in, emotions forgotten, it was all game face now.

Though, Sam couldnt help but consider that had he not grabbed the deck, none of this trouble would have happened.

The deck...

Sam prayed to someone, certainly not Gabriel, that Cas would have the deck. They were in desperate need of some wild luck.

Dean very slowly rose to his feet, every step feeling like lead with the knowledge of the fragility of his precious family member riding in his pocket. He just hoped he wasn't about to screw things up again.

The hallway was dark, lit by medieval looking torches every six feet. At the end was a light. Not THE light, but another opening. A curved doorway of sorts.

Dean was just about done. He was done fighting, done resisting, done screwing with the trickster's plan. It was hurting Sammy. What would happen next? Would he shrink out of sight entirely? His blood chilled at the thought. How the hell was he supposed to take care of him like this?

His footsteps echoed eerily and alone in the hallway as he progressed towards the light. This was it.

The pocket was roomier than it had been prior too his even more reduced stature, and while the leg room was appreciated, the sheer emptiness of the space forced an empty feeling into his chest. Curling into the corner of the pocket, Sam pressed himself against Dean's chest. It was as much for physical support against the swaying as it was mental support against the whole ordeal.

Sam could feel Dean's heart beating beside him. Hell, he could hear it. The sound seemed to lull his nerves to sleep. Forcing him to remember the days when they were kids, and he would fall asleep glued to Dean's side, praying their dad would come home okay.

Sam sighed. Despite the swaying of the pocket and impending doom of what was to come, Sam felt tired. It seemed like an eternity since he's last slept. The constant drumming of Dean's heart beat seemed to push him further and further towards sleep.

"Dean?" Shouted Sam, unsure if his brother could hear him. He needed a distraction. There was no way he was going to sleep through the upcoming ... something.

The footsteps scuffed to a loud stop, then the flap was opened by a questioning index finger.  
"You say something?" Dean's quiet voice rumbled.

The more Dean walked, the more Sam's nerves had begun to reappear. He could feel them buzz to life like a shot of adrenaline. He began to feel claustrophobic. A flash of relief filled him when Dean opened the flap.

"What's it look like out there?" Asked Sam, not liking being kept in the dark, literally.

Dean glanced up at the hallway.  
"Just a hallway. All medieval looking. Surprised your inner geek radar hasn't gone off yet."  
A smirk crossed his face, though he doubted Sam could even realy see him at the moment. "I've got you, Sammy. This is almost over." Dean said, reassuring himself equally.

Sam forced a smile to his face, happy to have Dean's support. Sam figited in the pocket, the upcoming grand showdown making him antsy. He shoved at the fabric that seemed to be more and more like an enclosure than a hide away.

As soon as the flap closed, the feeling of claustrophobia returned ten fold. Sam breathed out trying to calm himself, but nothing seemed to do the trick. The air was muggy with his exhalations and still possessed that god-awful stench.

He started to feel light headed, and had to force himself to breath normally. All his concerns were barreling at him at the speed of light. What if Dean fell? Where was Cas? Would they ever get home?

Trying to ease his agitation, San lifted the flap, letting fresh air soak the inside of the pocket. Taking it in, Sam felt his head clear.

Wait.

He could reach the flap?

He could peek his head out?

"Uh, Dean?"

"Just hang in there, Sammy." Dean muttered, pushing through the orange curtains.

The room was large enough, with high ceilings and and stone walls. The decor was sparse and eccentric in nature, favoring the color indigo. Overall, it reminded Dean of Willy Wonka's private office. And in the high-backed chair behind the desk, sat the Trickster himself. He watched Dean with a piercing intensity. It always threw the hunter off guard to be the subject of the angel's serious side.  
"About time you got here." Gabriel nodded at the chair in front of the desk. Dean stood before him instead. His hands clenched into fists, but he controlled himself.  
"I'm done." Dean said.  
Gabriel say up straight, interested.  
"Whatever you want me to I'll do it. Just fix my brother... Please"  
"Ah, all complaints go to our human resources department." A spotlight moved to show Castiel- or rather, a frozen, statuesque version of the angel. Dean ignored the dread in his stomach as Gabriel went on.  
"Besides... Isn't this what you wanted? Little Sammy needs you again. Really looks up to his big brother... You can keep an eye on him, keep the lil guy under your thumb and out of harm." Gabriel paused, then added for dark humor, "Well... Assuming you're careful."  
Dean felt his blood boil.  
"You're... Just sick. Really." Dean spat "You're outta your mind. I don't need my brother in the palm of my hand to know he's not going anywhere. I never... I never wanted him helpless. He's strong. Stronger than me, and the best hunter I know."

Sam sat in the pocket, stunned. Dean's words had certainly hit home. He'd always believed he was, well, as the trickster put it. To hear Dean say that he was strong. Well, Sam was having his own private chick flick moment to say the least. He knew that Dean missed being the big brother, being relied on, looked up too... it was always the little things that his brother appreciated, and to hear him shove those aside without a second thought... He could feel himself growing with pride... and literally growing.

"Fix him?" Laughed the Angel, leaning back in his seat. "Now why would I do that?"

Sam could feel Dean's body tense, Hell, he could hear his heart miss a beat.

"Don't get your pretty pink panties in a knot," continued Gabriel, "I don't need to fix anything. Never did."

It was a slow process but Sam was well aware if it now. He now filled the pocket to the point he had to sit down to remain inside.

Dean was going to ask him what the hell he was talking about... But the movement in his pocket finally got his attention. He pulled open the flap and to his astonishment, Sam's head and shoulders poked out as the tiny hunter raised his eyes upward. Dean's severe frown deepened, green eyes as wide as the little hazel ones below.  
In an instant, he had scooped Sam up between his big hands held him up in front of him. Maybe Gabriel didn't need to snap his fingers this time... Sam was growing on his own. Soon enough, the little guy took up both hands.

"How're you doing that?" Dean murmured urgently. There was hope in his desperacy now.

Sam stared back at his brother, too confused by his growing to voice his distaste for being held. He could feel all eyes on him...

"I..." Sam paused, ideas bubbled in his mind, but he couldnt get passed that he was doing it himself. "I don't know!"

He heard the snap of the tricksters fingers, and in a flash, he was seated, miniaturized, on Dean's shoulder, a wide smile plastered on his face.

"No lying Sammy," sighed the trickster, over exaggerating his eye roll. "You're a smart kid. You know why."

Dean bristled as he came into direct contact with the source of their problems. It almost caused him physical pain to bite back the spiteful comments at this point.

"Ignore him." He told Sam. "Just keep doing whatever you're doing."  
The growing had slowed for a moment, but as Dean's certainty and confidence shine through, it picked up pace enough, Sam passed the foot high mark.  
"Just five and a half to go," dean said, crouching down and setting his brother on his own two feet. He really had outgrown his big brother, in more ways than one..  
_Even at eighteen freaking inches_, Dean added to himself. Bittersweet.

Sam nodded, not quite sure how to continue something he had no idea how he started. He watch as his surroundings seemed to shrink around him. It was disorienting to watch it happen so slowly. As Dean crouched infront of him, Sam bit his lip. Those huge eyes stared passed him... stared into him. He suddenly felt like a kid again. The growing stopped.

No.

Don't think like that.

Dean knows I'm not a kid. Dean believes in me.

Sam sucked in a deep breath, and shut his eyes, trying to replay everything that had been said earlier. Something else to focus on...

"Chop chop Moose, we dont have all day!"Giggled the trickster, as he leaned against Dean's neck.

"Knock it off." Dean plucked Gabriel off his shoulder. He was temporarily thrown off guard that the little angel actually let himself be grabbed at all,.. But he caught ain't of Sam and brightened. He was halfway there. He scrutnizd Sam'e face for any sign of exhaustion or pain... If any was there, he deserved an Oscar for covering it up.  
"You're in final laps , man. Come on.."

"You better watch that grip, Winchester." Cautioned the Angel, "I quite like this vessel."

Sam shot Dean a smile. The encouragement was appreciated, as was getting the trickster to pipe down. He could feel a warm buzzing in his chest as the growing picked up pace. Still moving slowly, but fast enough that it was making him dizzy to keep his eyes open.

Shutting his eyes again Sam focused on his breathing. He could do this. This was about to be over!

Dean returned the grin, eyes darting over his little brother's expanding body. Damn, this was weird. But he didn't linger on that thought.

Dean raised an eyebrow Down at the mini Gabriel, arching a light eyebrow at him as he held him in an unrelenting fist.

"Are you seriously gonna tell me this was like that Ruby slippers crap? Sam could've changed back any time he wanted?"

"You're gettin warmer, I'll give you that. Sammy boy can fill you in on the rest."

Sam's eyes shot open at the words,  
"What are you talking about?" his growing slowed. Dammit Sam. Focus.

The angel vanished from Dean's grasp and reappeared in front of Sam. Right in front of Sam. Or better yet, on Sam. The miniature trickster was balanced on Sam's nose, each hand held a fist full of hair for balance. With one hand he gestured to himself,

"Omnipotent. I'm in that thick skull of yours whenever I want." laughed Gabriel, his motions playful, but his eyes darkly serious. Sam reddened at the lack of personal space, both mental and physical.

Was it true ? Did he really know the answer? Was it as simple as that? He had to overcome his own mental blockages, and poof it was done?

He was strong.

He is strong.

And Dean knows it.

The tricksters face lit up, and seemingly instantly Sam shot up a disorienting 6 inches. Sam stumbled, landing awkwardly on his bottom, with the trickster awkwardly splayed out on his face.

Gabriel dusted himself off, standing up on Sam's cheek.  
"Don't." He gave Dean a look of warning, ignoring Sam's uncomfortable expression. Touching Sam would reverse the progress he had made. Obviously. humans, sheesh! It was like teaching calculus to infants sometimes.  
Dean stood up now, watching from above. Gabriel slid down to talk into Sam's ear.  
"You two are worse than a soap opera!" He jeered impatiently.

"Well you're not exactly helping." mumbled Sam, scooping the trickster in his hands so he could sit up.

"Do you expect me to spoon feed you information?" Groaned the Angel, as he strolled around the span of Sam's hand with an eerie lack of caution. Though he was no more than 6 inches, the tricksters voice seemed to carry perfectly. A fact that unnerved Sam.

Pushing himself to standing, Sam was face to face with Dean's chest. Looking up at Dean, he tried to the best of his ability not to imagine how similar this was to when he was a kid.

"Gunna miss being tall?" Laughed Sam, as he sprouted another few inches, hoping to cover up the weird with humor.

Dean chuckled for Sam's benefit. He kept his eyes on Sam, unable to look away even if he wanted to.  
"Don't get ahead of yourself, little brother." He said with a calm mask that his he turmiltuous emotions within. He felt somewhat of a need to steel up a bit after his vulnerable exchange.  
"Though... I am gonna miss being able to drop you in my pocket whenever you're being a lousy nag." He cracked a small smile, watching as Sam shifted, raised his head. Eye to eye now.

Sam smiled. His heart felt as if it was being squeezed. He wasn't too sure why he felt such a strong feeling of melancholy. The trickster groaned impatiently from Sam's palm as he slowly began to surpass Dean.

"Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean leveled back.

And then it was over. Sam was standing his natural six feet four inches high. And dean was back to looking up at his little brother. They stared at each other a moment, relishing the normalcy without crossing over into queer town. With a subtle narrowing of his eyes, Dean silently told Sam to trap the tiny angel. Communication had to be subtle for this to work.

"You know, personally, I liked you best as a moose.." Gabriel said, clearly ready to wrap up.

Without warning, Sam's hand closed around him and Dean forced a ring over the miniature arch angels head. Gabriel looked downright murderous. He summoned the energy to transport across the room... But nothing happened. He looked down at the ring constructing around his waist. Enochian symbols were roughly etched into its exterior.

Dean looked rather proud of himself- but not cockily so, for a change. "Asked Cas about the terminology back I New York. And we both know there's plenty of down time when you're traveling by pocket."

They shared a grimace at the memory.

The grimace turned into a smile as Sam stared at his older brother. It felt right to be looking at him from his height. Normal.

"Cas..." Sam's smile faded as he turned to the angel, still frozen in his statuesque stance. After briefly sharing a look with Dean, Sam focused his attention on the angel in his hand.

Gabriel eyed him furiously. He's stopped squirming and instead stared at the brothers hatefully.

"Change him back. " Sam ordered.

"Or what?" Gabriel spat.  
"Or we'll dunk you in holy oil and roast you like a marshmallow." Dean answered evenly. The little angel eyed him up and down, trying to tell if there was a flask hidden away in that bulky jacket of his.  
"..You're bluffing." Gabriel decided. Dean immediately reached into his deep inner pocket and pulled out a hip flask. Recognizing the scent of holy oil the moment it was open, Gabe gave in.

"OKAY. Fine." He said with as much venom as he could muster. Without looking away. From them, Castiel was unfrozen behind them. Dean whirled and hastened to his side.  
"You okay?" He demanded

The angel coughed, his throaty voice sounding like gravel in cement mixer. When no coherent words formed, Castiel simply nodded as he continued to clear his throat.

"Well chuckleheads," started Gabriel, pulling Dean's attention back to Sam's hands. "Now that we've had our fun, I suggest popping me out of your little trap. You know, before I start to hold a grudge."

His words were filled with a confident sarcasm, but the venom in the undertones was unmistakable. Sam glared down at the tiny angel. He did have a fear for him welling up inside of himm making his chest tighten with a sort of anxiety, but his loathing for the ridiculous... idiotic... embarrassing... MOCKERY that he had been put through seemed to overlap any sort of fear that remained.

His hand closed around the angel, grip slowly tightening.  
"You think YOU have a grudge?" growled the younger Winchester.

"Cas, can you beam us outta here?" Dean asked.

Castiel gauged the surrounding energy versus his own, then nodded. He placed a hand on each of them. In the blink of an eye, they were back in the motel room. The beds were half made.. It was still morning. Like they had never left.

"You're making a huge mistake." Gabriel hissed.  
"Wouldn't be the first time." Dean said back. He picked up his duffel bag, more than ready to put all this behind him. He nodded the others toward the door.  
"Y'know, he'd make a good rear view mirror ornament... What do you think, Sammy?"

Sam followed Dean out to the impala, sending the trapped angel in his hand a pleased and slightly sadistic smile.

"Oh- _definitely_."


End file.
